A beckoned solitude--rejoice
The neighbors are in full voice
I hoist the window up a touch
To join the seasoned air
The whistling, crackling wind
Elopes to fill my unawares
I walked a reckless mile
Looped around familiar road
The earth was swollen cold and shut
A long and hopeless groan,
A target to remember
But to be here I forget,
I am where I am now
And to be here is to sit,
My mind it often wanders
To a valley of regrets
But I must look above the hill
The light--it's shining yet.