THE TRAVELER

Poetry Cave

I place my right hand on a wall and start walking,
I was told as a boy, if you are lost inside a maze
place one hand on a wall and walk,
eventually you’ll make it out,

but life is not a maze,
life is a mirror you step through,
life is a puddle you fall through,
life is a sky that looks down remorselessly,

there is a lantern that hiccups in the night,
sears char onto glass,
it speaks of courage
and the men who hold such lanterns aloft,

I see the brim of his hat,
I see his dark eyes and his stubble-riddled face,
I see his stained teeth,

he is cautious steps,
he waves to me,
I believe in friendliness but I have
wounds from a fight with
a wild boar,
I carry scars from the tusks,

the man beckons and I decide between
my future and my fear,
ahead of me there may be traps, but behind me
there is only the past,