Going Off the Beaten Track.

Mann, Chris

Going Off the Beaten Track

   Sitting this morning on my small town stoep
      and looking out across the roofs and trees
   I saw the hills where bush and scrub begin
      and longed to go to places off the beaten track.

   I thought of mountains miles from fence and farm
      where kudu roam the aloes, bush and shale,
   of thickets where the aardvark hide their holes
      and coastal swells where whale-calves doze and play.

   The sun was high, the morning too far gone
      to set out for the backveld or the sea.
   Besides, I knew once there I'd always find
      a beer-can in the grass or tangled fishing line.

   Someday I'll sling my backpack in my car
      and drive along a farm track till it ends
   and take my stick and walk into the hills
      until I find an unspoilt river, bush and sky.

   Till that day comes, I thought, let me begin
      to find such respite in the here and now.
   And so I closed my eyes and on my stoep
      set off into the hinterlands within my head.

   Fretful voices, things needing to be done,
      a hurt from weeks long past that's yet to heal,
   a future-fashioned gloom all slowed my way.
      I knew I'd have to deal with them on my return.

   Step by step care faded, time lost its grip,
      a din like traffic heard from far went still.
   And so it was, much sooner than I thought,
      I reached the river, bush and sky of peace within.