The Crooked Path (Mortar Of Footprints)
The fallen leaves
Surrounding my years, miles,
mortar of footprints
Smolder from the spark
My flint heels left behind,
The smoke irritating
A thousand eyes
Of those who cannot see
Beyond the horizon
Of their own hesitant steps
Into the uncertain future,
Wanting instead to walk it back
To a time when
Limbs were still weighted
By the foliage of a decade's falls
Now scattering with the wind
To cover the crooked path
I have cut through a wilderness
Where memories only hinder progress.
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