I Walk Away

So now comes the last light of afternoon,

the long looking back because too much

has happened, though little was accomplished

Perhaps that’s all there was meant to be

 

Though certainly, I can picture myself 

as a seeker on a journey, a wanderer,

a rebel, a worker, a victim traumatized

by the rise and fall of civilizations—

or just a passenger, passing by

Is there any truth to these imaginings?

Who knows? Certainly, not me

 

I was born. Someone raised me

Someone paid for my education, 

though I am not sure I ever used it

I have a passport so I must have traveled,
I have money so I must have paid

I have a house, so I must have lived here

I must have lived somewhere, once

I must have passed the time

 

But when all is said and done 

there are rules that still apply: 

The great estuaries will reek of extinction,

the fatal messenger will arrive too late

Cities will build themselves without their daughters,

even as I grow too old to be a daughter

so I will have to be something else:

 

Stars grind beneath my skin

I swallow the wind

I am young again

I walk away