And I step into the sanctuary of serenity
My huckleberry trail with her soft path of dead redwood needles and
Dirty bay leaves to carry my tired feet and sighing heart 
I’ve been wishing for a padded sound proof room into which I would puke
                My anger poison and beat out frustration
Then simply leave and the whole mess would disappear behind the door
No clean up
No concerns of needing
                To be understood
                Or considerate
                Or polite
The highway 101 hum still reaches the trail and feels that many miles
                Removed
Me and my thoughts
Me and my painful anxiety
Me and my anger
We walk on soft needles
