Missing

 

I have been missing.

I don’t know where

I went

or how I just snapped

back into place.

 

I re-trace

my steps, thuds, leaps,

but it’s all a mess

of half-swept-away

journeys, the patterns

barely recognisable,

trodden over

by other soles.

 

Was I lost?

No signposts existed to tell

me otherwise.

I zig-zagged,

stumbling over this

and that.

 

But now, from way up here

I can see the path,

the blemishes in the land,

the craters and set traps

as if looking at the palm

of my own hand.

 

I’ll follow it for now

until the lines become too hard

or too long to follow

or if I get bored,

or change my mind,

or get sucked in

again.