I Couldn’t Go

You travelled down a road I couldn’t go
At least not yet, not till my time is here
Before you left, I wanted you to know

So many things you never got to hear
The high dirt road that wanders who-knows-where
Where we can leave behind old hope, or fear –

The chance to breathe a purer, rarer air
I often stop and think I hope you found
For though weighed down a bit with toil and care

I still, of quiet mornings without sound
Think on the many things you might have said
But you moved on to newer, higher ground

And maybe, where I couldn’t go, you tread
The soft ways of the loved and bless├Ęd dead

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