Kilometers

In wooded white hills over darkened loam

buried is a once bitter man 

who lost his way on his return to home

He wanted nothing more than to feel the pavement

left behind on prairie roads

but his heart wasn't in the forest

It hung heavily like the driven snow

on empathetic, crooked trees

 with seldom more for companionship

than a forlorn breeze

and whispers of regret