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.