sunward

Sunward, was my gaze at once.
I don’t know when or how.
I wish I did. I’d draw a map
to bring you to me now.
I don’t know when they let me go —
the city’s dying streets —
or when, perhaps, I broke apart
their walls of still defeat
but now, I do not have to stay,
nor do I have to go,
and time has promised nothing
but to take me with it slow.
And there are findings ‘long the way,
some of which to be found,
and there are warm and quiet days;
an up for every down.
I can’t say now if it will last
with some finality,
but it will come and come again
and it belongs to me.