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Writer's pictureglenhaney

A Walk in the Park

I was walking uphill in a shaded park, when a very old man,

huffing mightily, passed me on a steep part of the path.

 

He did not see me. He was consumed with achieving whatever

goal he had set in his mind.

 

His stride bespoke pride in being outside with an overflow of

determination to stoke his tomorrows regardless of any sorrows

that may lay in his way.

 

The spunk he brought to the park will fuel his climb up that very

steep hill that’s just around the bend.



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