Untitled

September 14, 2003

I still wander alone those silent woods
on clear nights when I'm all alone.
Upon the dirt path I tread with quiet step
and follow my footsteps up that hill
where I'll look down and watch you
as you try to find where I've gone.
I'll walk away as you disappear again,
and whisper to the night air all I wish
I could have said if you had not gone.
Just this illusion to hold me quiet
as I wander back down, away from the light
that is a moment of pure belief in this.
Looking back to the green for a moment,
and think I can still hear you wandering.
There is nothing I can see to confirm,
and my legs lead me away, involuntarily.
My head slowly turns forward away from
the sounds of footsteps that are not there.