Borne of summer strolls untold

Into evenings where countless stories unfold

The road ahead was void of cars

And I alone played an orchestra to the stars

*

They shined their blessings from celestial seats

Meanwhile, I looked beyond perennial streets

Pondering clues for my desired path

For answers to a writer’s insatiable wrath

*

A scent, a sight, a cricket in the stillness rang

And suddenly, my own image, out it sprang

It lived, it breathed, it wandered like me

But would a cold-stone world accept it with the same glee?

*

I still haven’t caught the muse hiding in evening black

But it’s time I head home and turn back

The gravel below crunched, but it wasn’t me

For I walk the footsteps of another, you see…