Another Way Home

My fingers have fused to the wheel
leaving this place --lost so deep
in loneliness it seems impossible to conjure
the truth of where I have been.

I inflate these tires of trust daily
hoping to spark my interest in
a new way of doing things.

Instead, I have failed to do
what was needed to be done;
to find my way out of the darkness
and sweep the path clean,

clear it of debris
that clutters my view
with so much sorrow.
Blackness in the midst
of a sunny November day
of copper light.