Poetry: The Downtown Path
Slamming the door as I storm out afraid of the future gives me no satisfaction,
Cold from the concrete penetrates my feet reminding me to wear shoes.
I pick up the only thing close, a pair of well worn leather sandles.
Angry words still burn in my mind and pain in my heart.
Self centered, childish words all I want is to be anywhere but here.
….. and into the night I walk.
Stopping at the street I look right then left, puzzling,
To the left, the road goes through the a bicycle path between the downtown packing sheds
A long path only to return here.
To the right lies the open road, no end to the path where it goes.
Two miles to the main street and another two to the highway.
From there I can call a friend to meet me or just walk till I drop.
The night is dark and the air is crisp, a good night to vent, to walk.
The cherub like face my crosses my mind.
Her non-existent love tires me and I go to the left . . .
. . . and walk down the downtown path . . .
. . . in the pitch black night
....crying for her.
(2015)
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