remote

i am always alone always together
always held in the grip of this life
this amalgam of a long line of
choices i thought i never made
a tea brewed from fifty years
of love tears existence and
breathing in letting go holding
simple tools and learning how to
forge my way down this path
filled with weeds vines growth
finding my way sending out feelers
but i have always been blind and
those tiny bits of light that make
their way through guide me closer
to home deliver me from evil a
periphery of vision i have simply
discarded i can’t see i can’t
see i am lost always lost but
if you stand before me and ask
for directions i can tell you
the best way to get there

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A poem a day for 30 days.
In honor of National Poetry Month
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this post is part of NaPoWriMo. see more here.

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