Breathe, Exhale, Unload
They march together down the road,
one straggler at the back.
It seems to me her pace has slowed;
at least she has her pack.
The others walk around the mud;
she goes through each pot hole.
She’s down on all fours with a thud,
and now she’s on patrol.
There’s always adventure, to be sure,
on Huskey Mountain Road.
Whatever may ail, this is the cure;
just breathe, exhale, unload.
They tiptoe 'round the puddles there;
she jumps in with both feet.
They are all reasonably dry;
her soaking is complete.
They’re on the gravel, right on top;
she’s walking in the ditch.
They make good time; they rarely stop.
Her progress is a stitch.
There’s always adventure, to be sure,
on Huskey Mountain Road.
Whatever may ail, this is the cure;
just breathe, exhale, unload.
Without a care, my precious girl
embraces dirt and grime.
Oblivious, in her own world,
she’s having a great time.
We’ve simply learned to shrug and grin,
to bring a change of clothes,
and when she gets back home again,
she’ll likely need the hose.
There’s always adventure, to be sure,
on Huskey Mountain Road.
Whatever may ail, this is the cure;
just breathe, exhale, unload.
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