The Road Home

I stand here on the corner, steam of breath rising into the frozen air, staring, eyes fixed, longing to see... will lights ever emerge on the horizon of distant hill? I’ve turned asphalt into cobblestone, coated in black ice from beat down polished snow. A work perfected by so much effort. So now I stand and wonder, who would travel such a road to where I am? Who would risk both life and limb? When you make your path of isolation sure, and no one knows what for, will not all find easier roads on smooth paved sunlit days? So I wait at this hopeless edge of nowhere with nothing to do but struggle against the cold, starring up this road from the most far distant reach… of the road that leads back home.