The Wrong Way
This morning late I walked up to where the trees creep up to catch
the sun. Though they rushed to catch him, the breeze was not enough to
divert his attention. In my mind, I saw this place, split by a line of
fallen leaves. That lonely road, so often tread, looked worn in, beat,
faded and dead. I raised one arm to block the sight of those blinding
rays, but like a flame they drew me to their warmth. This open path, I'd
never seen, spread out its arms to capture the day. But in my head, I
envisioned this end, so I turned to walk the wrong way.