Enchanted Walk Poem by David Bayless

Enchanted Walk
I stare at the sun so golden wrapped in orange garments
But blind to this light, replaced by the uninvited gaze of my eyes
Confused, disoriented; where has the fairest of my mirror gone?
What lies beyond the mirror of my contentment?
I stand tall with my walking stick, thumb griped tight
The trail seems endless through the dense foliage only to be tempted by the steep grade
What propels my yielding stride?
Has the wine entranced the inevitable Bacchic dance?
What has happened to my pride?
Does the horizon give way to the tide?