Footprints clear in the crisp snow;
I follow, hoping to find my way
Back to the place I came in.
The path winds on and on;
No end in sight. Until at last
Familiar sights greet me.
I have been here before:
This is where I started out
Chasing the ghost of my own past,
Round and round, perpetual motion
Leading nowhere. No memory
Of my destination remains.
Lost in transit, marking time,
Walking in my own footsteps
Hoping to find myself
At journey’s end.