Where they go

by Walter Weinschenk

Artwork: Madison Park, Cynthia Yatchman

Everyone goes to Silver Lake
Because their days are few;
They hate their teetering city,
Where life sinks in a sea of streets;
They drown in a flood of traffic lights
And their ears grow numb
With the scream and screech
Of railway cars
Hurtling down the line.

Some people go to Golden Shore
Because their dreams are few;
Their past and present
Are one and the same,
And the future casts a shadow
As long as it is wide;
They bear the weight upon their backs
But long to lie upon the beach
Fall asleep and dream.

I will go to the Mountain Top
Because my joys are few;
My legs are stiff,
I can hardly walk,
But I will scale to the very top,
Climb a trellis of blinking stars
And swim into the night.