seeming sameness
as i trudge down
this brown dusty road
never quite alike
each day i pass this way
through rain or heat
each leaf turned
whether in death
or newborn
each stone upside down
through the passing
of torrential waters
or stumbling feet
i glance at the telltales
now topsy-turvy, tumbled
infinitesimally
from their permanence
half-hearted expectancy
withers away
to the usual utter despair
as the wind tells me
welcome home
welcome home
you're all alone.
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