I visited a place today <br />one that was once unfamiliar to me <br />like a foreign land that <br />I knew not of <br />but today is part of my home <br />I tried to envision it like it was <br />when we first walked along the river <br />and stared at the remnants of the <br />holiday season yet to come <br />now as I ran down the same path <br />down the same stretch of brown/green <br />dead grass, and heard the leaves make <br />a mournful crunch under my feet <br />I felt <br />the same <br />joyous feeling that we shared <br />hand in hand <br />and yet it was completely different <br />I felt strength <br />and power <br />and momentum <br />in my legs <br />to keep running, keep moving past <br />the trees and the lights and the signs <br />and the happy couples holding hands in the dark <br />hoping not to be seen and break <br />the shadows of inconspicuousness <br />that make love so desirable <br />and though I felt completely alone <br />amidst the lights of the season, <br />surrounded by the emptiness that one <br />feels before their eyes have adjusted to the dark <br />I was secure <br />and independent <br />without apprehension of the next dark bend in the path <br />and that place is no longer <br />our place <br />but my place <br />my dark path of which I hold no fear<br /><br />Katherine Rhodes<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-trees-and-the-lights-and-the-signs-and-our-past/
