Ghosts of Crossroads
When we are found at a new crossroads we often use it as a time to figure out who we are now, who we were, where we are going. We are blocked by a somewhat heartbreaking checkpoint -- a stop in the road where we are forced to look into ourselves, out of ourselves and all around. We are in motion.
The ghosts of roads traveled
Parts of me that are supposed to be covered and now exposed
Delicacy has trickled off me—
I’m restless
Often I don’t wait–
I’m anxious for a breath to fill in the space
Waiting for a free rhythm
Something indicates you’re behind me
Trailing my muffled steps
I refuse to be adrift
Yet I cannot ignore your lecherous shadow
Depriving me of purity
Yet I keep looking behind me —
For the ghosts of my crossroads
With every step they melt off me
What I want to be is unlatched
My movements are bottomless
I walk freely at night
I don’t believe in looking where I’m going
I am an old loneliness
I frolic with my ghosts