The Crossing


I gaze at footsteps

trek against nature —

an unconceived journey


further away, he treads

as the trail elongates

into a place without me


my breath becomes shallow

short and desperate

darting on grounds unpaved


arm grows numb

reaching in distance,

a deserting love


the kind with conditions,

never knowing the forever

that exists in the fight


now, I stand alone

on this barren path

with hopeless dreams


unfamiliar and cold–

I search for my way home

cautiously peering.. 


Where am I?


© 2013 Liza Morales



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