Only here till’ morning, so the night’s an open road and,
the beaten path only leads to mourning. An off-road traveler,
who escapes the chase of a pursuant sun.

Slow walking through river reeds.
A cupped handful of running water reinforces his state of being;
all but free.

Marathon of miles between, the first date on his gravestone and
the last number his mother reads at the bottom of his eulogy.
The hyphen shorthand for life and,

Missing the meaning through the seams, that connect his first day
to the day he leaves. An often-bereaved purveyor of shattered dreams,

Who stops to smile at every waving tree because,
even in despair he found belief beneath
the bared teeth of the machine trying to syphon from his peace.

A flower born from concrete.
Escaping through the cracked city streets;
out past the horizon line.

My feet tread endlessly
Searching for the truthful path
Needing somewhere to obtain peace
Finding a direction

These shoes are confining
There is no comfort until removal
But my footprints seem obvious
And I think I’m lost

I yearn for help
Others that might boost my endurance
There must be a path that matches mine
Prints that would hide my own

Turning, twisting my toes along
Some agile and then slow swaggering
Take me to directionless ends
Could my turn be now?

My soles are weary
I trek along
Wanting quiet oblivion
My heels will rest soon

These steps only know the next one
Only one moment to the next
Never a direct line
Never a distinct direction

Yet I feel strength in my stride again
Taking a step, a turn, a twist of my own
Tomorrow is today
The journey always beginning

Because I moved

There's this feeling inside me,
I can't describe just right
but my best try
is to say that I feel trapped.
Like a dog chasing it's tail,
or a hamster on a wheel.
Perhaps I'm a wingless bird
whose only desire is to fly.