Introspect

Introspect

It was a crisp October afternoon
as the shadows had fallen so soon.
I took a path by the dead fallen pine
and dreamed of less complicated times.

Stepped into the darkest of ravines,
replaying some old childhood scenes.
Up a canyon of golden leaves aflame,
nothing since had ever been the same.

Came to a spot up on the northern end
all regrets were unknown back when.
With no compass to give me direction,
all thoughts open for my dissection.

I'd find a way with night on my heels
and the final truth of how it feels.
Journeyed through life's lonely quest
and found my way as I'd done my best.

© Copyright 2005 T.L.Finch (UN: t.l.finch at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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