Written for Stormy Lady's Newsletter and Poetry Contest using her prompt words. |
THE CABIN It had been years since he had traveled to the cabin for there seemed never a minute to spare these days. Time was of the essense, now he had been called home. He packed quickly, since there was no time for delays. He glanced in the rear view mirror as he drove out, regreting he had to go and yet the urgency was clear. His father was dying, there was to be no mercy for him. No hope of recovery, no one else in the family near. The majesty of the mountains overwhelmed him and he slowed to drive across patches of melting snow. He had forgotten how beautiful a sight the cabin was, nestled with mountain peaks above and a lake below. Arriving at the cabin, he stood motionless at the door, his knock sounding louder in the cold evening air. Footsteps, a sound of the latch, the door opening wide as a musky scent escaped from somewhere in there. He sat at his father's bedside, holding the old man's hand as his mother made some hot mint tea to warm him up and smiling as she watched them together once again. Quickly she came to the his side and handed him a cup. His father went to sleep with a word of love on his lips and a peaceful smile as he held his son's strong hand. Just how and why he survived the raging pain of dying I'm sure no one will ever really be able to understand. He had built the cabin when his son was very young and for him it held the true treasures of love and pride, but a son has to do what a son has to do, and his wife would leave with her son, putting her true love aside. With a promise to return to lay by his side one day In the shadow of the pines, she knew she had to go. Slowly they drove away from the cabin but there is so much more to this story, so much more to know.. For late at night in the pale moonlight, an old man stands motionless, folks say, at the little cabin door, then looks off down the road and turns away in grief as the north wind howls even louder than ever before. Countrymom 1/1/09 |