Roadblock

Riding along as if nothing ever happened when all of a sudden a roadblock and I'm detoured right past your front door. Now I find myself checking my rear-view mirror, looking behind at the road where I have been. Sometimes, even though you've found another way, you'd still rather take that same old route. It's a comfort to see something so familiar, a curve or a sign or a long stretch of highway, the same road taking you away or bringing you home, the same every day, leading either way. So an unexpected roadblock leads me down a road I used to travel, but the detour ends with just another dead end, where from my rear-view mirror I see you playing with your daughter in the yard as your wife twirls her baton.