Walk in the park

You are like me.

You keep walking in the sunlight,

slowly,

without a clear sense of where you are going.

It's as if direction no longer holds you.

Like a compass that can't work

because something nearby is stronger.

Like a bird confused by artificial light,

forgetting how to fly straight

keep circling downward instead.

But stop. Come back.

I'm not ready to give up yet,

though I lose track of when I felt that way.

You lose track too.

You wake up each morning

not knowing why

there is a single green leaf

resting on your chest,

so still

that not even the wind

can move it.