Pilgrim

 

Passing on my way,

the way posts,

old and crumbling.

Memories,

of memories,

fallen down,

like walls

of some ancient palace.

 

Temptation calls

from every crossroads,

begging a few more minutes

of my life

for the dead.

So easy to be wanting,

but not to set a focus.

 

No talisman

could ward off

how eagerly

I rush

to explain excuses,

and drag the bones

of my regrets behind me.

A fellow traveller,

in chains,

who just stopped walking.

 

There never were any

“Good old days”.

It’s a lie

time tells

to make us feel afraid,

because all know

where the road goes,

but we never really

talk about it.

 

Gather myself together.

This next leg

is gonna be a rough one.

Back at the last

fork in the road,

I thought I heard

the voice of an old friend

calling me

to travel East

and rest a while.

 

The sign said “Home”,

and I laughed.

Home is not there.

Not on a road that goes

back to where I came from.

Pull myself together.

Lift my eyes

and put one foot

in front

of the other.

I think I’m going to make it.

 

 

HG – 2022