I stand here
As if I've been here ten thousand times
As if these trodden pathways were laid on my footsteps
And the lines of trees make an imprint on my retina
As if they fill a gap that was printed in my eyes
When they first formed
And the branches turn the afternoon to dusk
Silently drawing the time from the air
And using it to paint a patchwork
Of deepening green above my head.