Rising Hill Road
There’s a road that curves exactly the same as the line here on my palm
It travels along
my arm, like the veins you can’t see inside my heart
I walk its paths
when I’m asleep,
and dream its greens when I’m awake
The willows weep as I make my way, tracing the edge of the path.
The twilight sky dances toward dark; where footsteps make no sound
This road is smooth and I am young; the end of it is home
So, I hold my breath and take a step
toward the waning moon