Any Road

The journey or the destination

 

He said, any road will get you there,

if you only walk long enough,

and his grin, hanging weightless in the air,

lit his eyes.

It doesn't matter which way you go,

if you don’t care much. His smile,

left with the rest of his body,

when he was gone.

The lure of the open road,

uncoiled to where the earth meet the sky.

Unknown things waiting to happen,

adventures that flow in my blood.

My eyes teary with delight, almost forgotten,

of a cold winter night, and a bedtime story.

But at the fork in the road I halt,

like Alice, I hesitate, I ponder,

I search for his vanished leer.

When he said pick any road, was it

right, maybe left?

Do I much care where I go?

The journey is getting harder and harder to cling to,

and when the sun descends, and the day is gone,

the lights in the nearby house,

the warmth of the fire, in the woodstove,

is what I long for.