Alone Again

The road a lonesome mate.

it's end far, silenced again.

Of voices and dreams

Between me and old friend.

We traveled for a while,

frolicking and laughing,

at each bend, never a struggle.

Forever etched, you know,

where stones are carved with words.

In a permanent way.

not subject to the elements,

natural, or human fray.

My friend may never see them,

their road branches away,

from the boulders we made.

When time was ours, as we began.

to know each other,

share our thoughts and dreams.

Staring into each other's soul,

through the portals of our eyes

I visit the boulders often,

they are my papyrus,

my heart the pen;

Its ink blood, red.

I cannot forget each stone 

we carved, with our smiles

and kisses; blown in the air,

never landing where intended.

Each time I leave, 

I find my way back,

An endless circle. 

The words are my crumbs.

to mark the way,

I visit when alone,

finding my road void;

I fill it with memories.

I fill it with wishes

blowing in the wind

across my etched words,

they’ll someday wear thin.

© Don Stewart 2017