The Road

All travel a road aimlessly
Centered.  Forward. Steady.
at a cowards pace
Offering all, or nothing

Favor come into light
from dark, cold places
beyond doors and from whispers
once sealed within walls

Peering windows hidden
by those wandered
weak from worry gave
pause and stared

As the sorrowed idled by.

Ill guided by narrowed-yellow
offering hand … go steady

Press on and beyond 
the shadowed path where
green give way to dust

Forward and steady
at a coward’s pace

while on this path
there are no windows.

Image credit: Robert Frank

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