The Long Shadow

Once, in a barren strip of land
between highway and train tracks,
a groundhog’s head
popped up from his hole
to survey his rodent kingdom.
He caught my eye as I waited there
for the stoplight to turn green.
Twenty years on, I rarely pass
that still-empty patch of dusty ground
without recalling his grizzled face,
wondering how long he survived
in such a desolate place,
and wishing I could have told him
he left tracks upon my soul.


Filed under poetry

4 responses to “The Long Shadow

  1. What a lovely memory and honor to Mr. Groundhog. 🙂


    very thought provoking———   

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