Wednesday, April 11, 2018

Map, a poem


The map bequeathed me proved inaccurate,
  yet I found my way from there to here.

Who wandered with me all that way but you?
  We who lost our way but did not fear

have reached the well-marked road at last, come dusk.
  Walk with me into the night drawn near.

Stephen Brooke ©2018

I must admit, this ended up nothing like what I had in mind when I started.  That, I consider a good thing.

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