fare well march

March has come. As long as this month usually seems this time it has swept by. Looking toward the future has become a daily routine for me. The days are nothing but moments now, my work has become apparently futile. Considering what brother said to me not long ago, I think I may be preparing myself for leaving this place. The fact that I can leave here as easily as I arrived has squandered my intentions, if I ever had any. In due time, maybe tomorrow or the next day I will abandon my solitude, leaving all behind. In some ways I guess I look foreward to seeing and hearing others. To the hill side town I will return. The gardens will grow back and the deer can have them. The winter shelters will fall and be home to vermin. The cabin will go unattended and shelter coyote, or rabbits. The bluff will take only the company of the falcons. The stream will keep her fish and water. The forge will rot over time and be artifact to surveyors and developers a hundred years from now. Begotten to be forgotten. Spring will arrive without witness and my work will be washed by the undertow of nature.