Broken Pathing


‘Round here, I guess it’s sinkholes

In other parts, it might be from

An I.E.D.

Or maybe lava turned to magma when

Nature groans upheaval


If I were walking, and an unformed line

Broke open before me,

Whether in the moment or who knows

How many hours before,

I’d wonder not only what to do

But also how it happened in the first place

Forming foreboding words,

Don’t cross here, not at this place

Not here

Walk around, if you can

Walk around

If I’m still here by nighttime

I might not tell one darkness

From the other


For all we say of woods and bread crumbs

(now ash),

Treasure might be on the other side


A new way home


C L Couch



Photo by Joshua Earle on Unsplash

Yellowstone National Park, WY, USA

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