Down The Road

Down the road, there’s a lake where I usually go to wash my tears away.
Sometimes I see you there and I hide,
because I'm scared of what you'd think of me.
I would like to walk like you walk,
like walking on clouds would be enough to get you around.
Sometimes I wish you'd wash my tears away.


When the fish in the lake are tired and dying, I take them out and bury them.
The ground is cold and wet and we sink in far and deep.
But instead of struggling,
I relax
and remain
in the dirt where I belong.


Down the road I once wandered and when the air froze, so did I.
I sat and waited until you came by.
I waited in the cold air but by then
my heart was numb and I fell asleep.
I could hear your footsteps as you gently walked by my frozen soul.
Sometimes I wish you were there to warm my ice heart.


In the early morning, when dew covers the land and the sky is gray,
I swim through the thickness of lightened tears.
Feeling for railing, for you to guide me,
I stumble and land on the air,
where I stay,
where I float,
where I rest my tired eyes.


Down the road I saw a mound rise gently from the ground.
Soil released and packed, smelling sweetly fresh.
I inhale as dirt fills my body and unable to rise.
I lie,
I wait
I feel you walk by, again, but invisible
is my body,
my soul,
my withered heart.
Sometimes I wished I'd invited you along.

Date Unknown, 2000