I have no intention nor wish
to turn back –
though I was some way down the track
before I even realised
I had already set out.
The inexorable steps are blurred:
a series of unremarked, ordinary moments.
Calling with your pale mouth,
you have become
a phantom by the roadside.
At times you still seem real.
Then the eagerness
with which you offer me food
or point what you say is the way
reveals you to me.
You are no true guide;
I must not trust you.
The path is solitary, unfamiliar.
I don’t know where it will take me.
Lonely, I have no regrets.
Inspired partly by the writings of Carlos Castaneda, in a metaphorical way.
An old piece, as you see, about an old situation —
newly submitted (29 May 2013) for Poets United's Verse First: The Function of Freedom
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