I look behind me and I see a trail
That winds from love to love and loss to loss,
Where “I succeed” is so close to “I fail”
The distance can be bridged by a coin toss.
And up ahead: the trail I’ve yet to blaze,
A tangled wild from which I hope to make,
In the full time of my remaining days,
A path between miracle and mistake.
I will die walking it, this incomplete
Track that will be completed by my death.
So I sit here a while to rest my feet.
I take a look around. I take a breath.
And slowly, slowly, count to sixty-two;
And only then, start walking somewhere new.
Copyright 2014 Matthew J Wells