untitled poem

Wistful for something the loneliness always makes you that way

Who would have known I'd be in the town where the famous recluse

stayed

Just looking for a long covered bridge

that's all

and as usual it was in the early fall

And if I'd known I would have tried to pursue him I'm sure

but it's eerie knowing the anonymity of being there and the

prison of seeming freedom that's no cure

Wending down the New Hampshire roads losing me losing you

forever now

But not back then

Leaving something leaving nothing

Leaving leaving

again

4-1-11