The Decision

Every step takes him outside a new circle
Crowds are falling away
And the commodities of persons
Are returning to places of trade
The wide world splits open and reveals
The illusion of a previous order

Streets, minds, memories
Your body breathing, rising, falling
Her body shifting to place you in better
Proximity to ecstasy
The motel lights blinding on a strip
and cars, cars, cars, haunting
The poor of the boulevards in pools
Of light and in dreams

In 44 years, containing the crystalline
Glint of sun on metal in the high clouds
Under the blinding dialogue of snow, ice, and altitude
Or through blurred salt, bent low in hail
To find your way, struggling blindly
To find your way home.

To find your way Home.