With my new hiking poles leading the way,
I thrust my body down footpaths and up the lowest hills.
I carefully shift from my left foot to my right foot with bated breath,
For the way is fraught, and I do not want to take another spill.
As I walk among the trees, I sigh in pleasure as I glimpse
Through the gaps the mighty river that seems to call my name.
Onward I struggle over fallen leaves, determined to stay in shape,
For each moment that I walk makes my goals easier to attain.
Written for Wordle #535 from the Sunday Whirl from BWarren: prompts are in bold print. Douglas bought me the poles for Christmas because I have fell twice on the paths here. I ended up having six extra weeks of physical therapy after the last tumble down the side of one of the paths. We don’t take the steepest hills any more. Yet, I love to walk in the woods in every season, even when it is cold outside, rather than on the treadmill.