road back loomed long before I was ready
after midnight demons convened
rearranged the moral furniture
and each morning without fail
I dutifully tripped and fell
finally there was nothing left but to begin
on the way down visibility
had been impeded by heavy weather
synaptic storms
nervous tics and mental fog
but now see anew focus brilliant
piles of clothes
bins of fruit and vegetables
sacked for their color
features dance in time
or in counterpoint to speech
much-loved books hold
bits of dialogue and description
I somehow failed to dislodge before
minor characters shoulder
their way to the foreground
amazing secrets
lie carelessly scattered about
lost names of places and objects
the emptiness of city streets at certain hours
how time is squandered
in delay an inattention
gradually the gradient levels
and the road back is one
I had always followed
alongside everyone else
but this time it seems enough to be walking it at all