My friend, I left you down on Cedar Lane
With packages all tied up on your back.
You knew the truth and still would not complain
You gave me then no rest, yourself no slack.
The morning held more promise with each mile,
And I, your sole companion, seemed to last.
Your gaze on the horizon, hinted smile
Stayed in place though roads changed all too fast.
The whispers on the breeze suggested spring,
Though winter seemed to cling about my eyes,
And though my load was lighter, you would sing
Of sweetness in the glowing summer skies.
Near autumn all my strength went into walking,
And soon I dropped my load and sat me down.
Your smiling through the winter and your talking
Seemed not enough for me to stick around.
You shouldered my own bag, and I regret
That I, the weak one, won't walk with you yet.
postscript
A heroic sonnet for Crowns of Sonnets' February Sonnet Challenge: [link] . Quite ironic, this is, since the actions described are not at all heroic. Food for thought, though.