The important part

The mists descend -
all day it has rained
and the dark comes early
and the green is dark

in here it is quiet - the
ticking of the clock, the
breath of the fire, orange,
an important part -

and I strive to keep my chin
above the level of my being
where all the years are
heaped about me like a chain

so many ghosts around
I am never free of them
no mind clean enough
to begin again

on a new road untrodden - 
all ways are worn
and pitted with holes
I wet the ground with the blood from my soles.

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