on melrose hill i count each single
star
the night is heavy but i have the
time
to think about my purpose on the
climb
and wonder at the passing of each car
this morning distances did not seem
far
and now i feel each little bit of
grime
still looking up the moment is
sublime
and nothing can this perfect journey
mar
each mile has put its stamp into my
feet
so much is obvious in the tropic dark
as i make game of what is still a
test
my heart must wonder at what i will
meet
the kind of future that i have to
mark
and the long hours still left before
i rest