One Apart
Marc Mosko, 1994

I am empty within myself.
It's not as if it's an open desolate place, with no landmarks to steer by.
They are there, only time has worn them flat and featureless.
Considering each dimming feature in my life,
I find things there.

But they only point to backwards roads leading no place I may go.
Those I have known now are gone.
Like leaves on a still lake,
Only when they were out of sight did I realize they had drifted away.

The things which bound us so tightly,
Suppressing the ripples and etching new features,
Those things we did, places we stayed, all are foreign to us now.
We are all in new environs, and mine is one apart.