second guessing

second guessing is not a character trait

listed on my Elle magazine cube quiz.

pick a path, then pack back out-

that’s not me, I’d rather not choose.

rather stay fixed to my floor

stuck on newly coated varnish.

stand behind locked doors, all the while

holding my keys

until I know which direction my google map points.

 

upon departure I knew –

turn left,

head north –

find the weathered old sign,

the one hidden in the overgrown grasses

to this sacred trailhead I had heard about

and run.

out in open field, free, attached only to wind

and my laces, that’s it.

be still and wait on fallen storms

that dilute my days of freedom

like rain clouds in my coffee cup.

I drink them down now, it’s time.

I’m coming.

keep the dirt dustless,

ready my hills in blooms of royal and jade,

and let the sun shine again in my eyes.

 

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