Dusty Roads by Ronald J. Hoffman
While I walked dusty roads alone as a little boy,
wandering the fields with an eye on home, I would
wonder what would become of this place in my heart,
would it turn to stone, hardened and discolored, or drip
love like from the heart of a new mother? Would I feel the
loving grasp of another…another who could soothe me in the
Winter of my pain? When the Autumn came the stinging rain froze
me to my view. I am older and I cannot be any bolder than any planning
on what I’ve been used to. I can’t see past the low walls, for on the ramparts
sit the masters of my youth, guardians of my senseless fortune. The kings of the
higher fortresses keep changing, yet no one is near me.
2017 Ronald J. Hoffman, Roaming Snyder Publishing.