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GOLDEN ROADS

Last night while we were asleep the air from the south reached with long warm fingers in among the cold mountains, bringing us a sunrise worthy of a very populous pantheon and covering all with a fine warm morning mist that played magic with the still green, and on my way down to the station I realized through my squint that I was rolling down a long and gleaming golden road, moistened by the night's mist and lit up by the rising sun: it was the long golden road that runs through every myth, that leads the mythy protagonist on to victory, fame and fortune, or sometimes, as in my case, the train station. But hell, I'll take any golden road I can get.