My Walking Track

I travel 'long the winding track Seeing mostly green, but a tree trunk black, The orange and brown of a falling leaf, It settles and nestles to a bush beneath, A rocky outcrop where the wallabies bound, The hidden tinklings of bellbirds sound, A wispy fog emerging from a gorge, Enveloping sheer cliffs that wind and rain forge, It feels so good my walking track, Although often away it always beckons me back.