Reaching Past Winter

Enough of a Pattern

Liquid fire dancing in the small water
pooling at my feet
standing still along the paved edge
hesitating to walk
forward past the light
pulling at my eyes
looking for its source
searching for familiar surroundings
finding none

Voices past, whispering close
gathering in shadows
telling the heart a memory
drifting in fantasy
away from dusk
gathering useless scraps
in a piled-up soul
searching for enough of a pattern
to find the way home