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Train tracks

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Train tracks

I don’t know if they are train tacks. But I like to believe they once were.


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The Lost One

The lost one wandered the hills.

As he had each day,

Lost from somewhere…

Not knowing where…

But knew he was astray.

The lost one knows the hills,

In them every nook and crack,

But does not know,

Where from he came,

Nor how to get back.

The lost on can be lovely,

Like a radiant butterfly,

But at times he can be ugly,

Like a wistful, vengeful sky.

The lost one feels distant,

As if seen from afar.

But he’s just lost inside himself, 

like most lost people are.