And so I glided,
underneath the canopy of trees,
that runs along that forked river.
With its yellow lines, and turns.
I went to all the old haunts.
The places,
the faces.
The memories.

The past.
There
I found
solitude.
Here
I found
sin,

and
rejection.
right there,
I tried.
There,
right there,
is where the one I let get away,
lives. Maybe.

Left,
right,
left,
right,
I turned.
And I dared.
I became.
I saw.
I ranted and raved.
Just there.
There
I was brave.
And here so weak.

Up ahead,
with new layers of paint,
that attic,
just there,
is where
he asked,
me.
There is were,
just there.
Lying,
almost dying,
way, way up ahead.
But up there,
up there I still believed.

Twirling, whirling,
as Rose and I
cycle by.

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for Discover Challenge | Portraits