No More Time To Borrow

Sitting on a high mountain boulder, still getting used to getting older, up here, even in August, the wind carries a chill, the view provides a thrill, sitting in a high mountain wilderness wildflower meadow, moose under the trees, flowers with bumble bees, oh my, what a show, you know, I don’t want to go, from up here, the sun warms my face, I feel so much a part of this place, it’s in me, used to be, I ran through these wilds freely, now I step carefully, today, sitting here in this beauty and peace I look around and can’t find my yesterday, can’t see my tomorrow, but feels like if I look far enough I can see all the way to my end, to a time when there is no more time to borrow, until then, I will, when I can, walk in the high mountain wild air, wishing I could just stay up there.