less than a mile

this is the last long curve the final climb
up the dark hillside to the mountaintop
a moment's pause not enough time to stop
the distance measured by the starting time
of musical cicadas not a chime
of distant bells urging the feet to hop
small light upon this road and no rum-shop
just scent of allspice and of flowers of lime
from the switchback i see the distant lights
down on the lowland and the signs of ships
far out at sea set on their busy track
but there's no time to take in all these sights
with thought of tea to wet and warm my lips
and the encroaching darkness at my back