I open the door
step out into light
garish light
it saves me right after it
knocks me to the dusty ground
but rising again-
that is what happens every time-
I look forward and up,
mainly up, because I see
a canopy of trees
with branches of time
spreading out and around,
intertwined and singled out
What I think is significant
is the gaping emptiness
directly above
where time is not present
or maybe just not yet
and I know after I follow
this path I’m on,
after the beauty and heartache
of travel,
if I ever make it back
branches will weave as
my song, story, and time
will close, with a thud
and click of key,
that light-filled gap.
Probably, by then, it
will be dark.
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