arrows point in miscellaneous direction
away from sense and into mysterious places
that seem awful and hot and dark
but also glow with that green emerald
brightness of newness the light
just ahead dragging forward every desire
for change, the negative outdistanced
by the chase for new experience
I have come to a crossroad
a nest of arrows invites a multitude
of possible futures and nothing
but the flat iron landscape
behind me to hold me still
I can't move
wanting to keep my feet dry
and rooted in the past
that even now
crumbles
as it dries
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