An endless track,
Meandering predicatively,
305 times around,
Yet never knowing what lies beyond this
Grizzled track.

Shivering,
My gray spirit presses on,
305 steps taken
Through this impenetrable fog,
Many more to go.

This bight winds on,
This way and that,
305 turns.
The speckles of this devious path
Cloud the search for meaning.

Only a breath,
Only a moment,
305 days.
Run away from the end,
Clear the path for me.