Lost Path (#27)

Twelve hours of July heat,
The workday ended weary
Well beyond dark,
Dewy stars sparkling,

And beneath my feet,

The path I’ve followed

For twenty five years

Has suddenly vanished—

Tangled in chicory,

Queen Anne’s lace,

Knee-deep in timothy,

Knit with clover,

And I understand

Suddenly that it’s

Me who has vanished,

Star-blind, stumbling—

The reliable path, so trodden,

Only inches left or right

In the corporeal darkness, is

A mile, an ocean, a world distant.