Walking

In front of me is a road
and behind me is a wood
that I know I cannot enter
because I just came from there and it holds no value or meaning to me.
So I walk.
It's a familiar road.
I've walked it before, many times, it's bursting with memories.
So many times my loves, my friends, have trodden this path with me.
And yet I usually journey alone.
They leave me at their stops because mine is always the farthest, the last on the road.
I see the ghosts of my memories dancing in their place.
I always walk alone.
It is dark, I am alone, yet I am not afraid.
The dark is my home, no one knows it's secrets better than I.
The stars sing to me, marching to the melody.
I reach the end of the road.
The music stops and the dancers disapear.
All that's left of my home is glowing embers.
I sigh.
Resume walking.
In the distance I see a meadow.
With fragrant purple flowers beckoning for me,
and I know if I lay amongst them I will hear the stars.