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.
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