Pensive Mood

Everyone’s a stranger
until they’re not
everything’s for sale
even after it’s bought,
Everyone’s a virgin
until that day
they watch the ship
sail away,

I look at a mountain
a distant hill
wonder if
I ever will,
Stand on the summit
the very peak
and if I’ll find
what I seek,

My coffee cup
and the open sky
at the airport
ready to fly,
Airplane reasonably
full of gas
good weather
through the pass,

I start the engine
twiddle some knobs
look at the number
on the Hobbs,
How many hours
have I done this
something I enjoy
would certainly miss,

That distant mountain
mentioned before
out the window
of my right door,
On the summit
a figure stands
it could be me
making different plans,

I get where I’m going
land on the beach
the small cabin
in easy reach,
Wood for the stove
cans of food
In somewhat of
a pensive mood,

I make a fire
as the sun goes down
a couple hundred
miles from town,
On the other side
of the mountain range
my mind empty
which is rather strange,

It’s usually full
overflowing
with thoughts and wishes
where I’m going,
Where I’ve been
what I’m doing
new friendships
and those renewing,

The night gets cold
the stars come out
in the cabin
some whiskey, no doubt,
I find the bottle
and pour a drink
in my mind I ask you
what do you think?...