Trudge Drudge

seeming sameness
as i trudge down
this brown dusty road

never quite alike
each day i pass this way
through rain or heat

each leaf turned
whether in death
or newborn

each stone upside down
through the passing
of torrential waters
or stumbling feet

i glance at the telltales
now topsy-turvy, tumbled
infinitesimally
from their permanence

half-hearted expectancy

withers away
to the usual utter despair
as the wind tells me

welcome home
welcome home

you're all alone.

by Fernando Ayala

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