Day 374: In The Middle Of It All
∴
the cost of this expedition
is taking its toll
and it was miles ago
that i ran out of crumbs.
have my tracks, too,
been covered in sand
or was i ever there at all?
faintly,
the sense of myself
rides on the wind
and casts itself to the curve of tomorrow,
calling,
crooning,
from ‘round the bend.
is it only an island?
what foolish, fierce energy
to circle back to start
and call the expense
an adventure.
is the acreage of me
so small?
but what i really must know:
is there a home
in the middle of it all?
∴
