by Ella Bloom ’27 on October 23, 2025
Poetry
The lonesome traveler
With only his pack to tie him to the earth
Sees the tracks of those who came before
Yet decides to turn the opposite way
He carves his footprints into the land
The same way the bear digs his claws into the bark
I own this land
Each step says
He knows not of this world
Of the grasses that have grown long before he swept through them
Of the branches that have extended from the trees long before they fed his fire
Of the water that has traveled thousands of miles long before reaching his lips
He knows not of the land
And its withstanding grace
Of its willingness to remain within time, within place
He sees the deer and wonders which will be the first to go
Yet their tracks are his only hope of finding life amidst the snow
He does not stop to breathe
Does not pause in the least
Like the harsh hand of winter he never seems to cease
In his pollution
His destruction
Of a world we’ll never know
A world of plains and streams and farmlands oversown
He believes his footprints are a God-given right,
Are the freedom that bobs above him like a kite
For the beauty of an untouched world is no different than a bountiful tree
A potential that many may conquer
Yet few will ever see.