It wasn’t long before I found
A crack in my demeanor
A harrowing
Of imperfection
A way in which I’m broken
Until one day thought I
Perhaps the dark is just unknown
In need of light
And wanting an explorer
Curves ahead
Construction
Crosswinds
Historical Marker
Scenic Viewpoint
Or have jumped back in time
Nearly a century
But I can look back
At a time without industry
Without machines
Without, even, the wheel
The heat
Which makes my skin
Crackle
Like the way the gravel and sand
Grate against the soles
Of my boots
