Pathfinders

we followed the path

one put in front of us

a dream of the long-dead

picket fence cemeteries

little pools of tears

then I heard a noise

a rustle from just off the path

a calling from the dark

from the forests

the jungles

the caves of childhood

before long

the path was gone

that rocky road my ancestors laid

it is gone now

honestly

they didn’t know where they were going

now the only path before me

is the one I see

when I turn around

and see the path I have cut