tracker ovenbird I’ve been chasing you for so long. You probably didn’t even know. You had such a huge headstart that your trail was almost cold, but I’m good at noticing–a broken twig, pine needles scattered and pungent, faint ghosts of prints in the dry earth, a scent, a sound making its way to my twitching ears. I took my time. Made camp. Made steady progress. Lately I’ve drawn closer, touched the warm remains of your abandoned fires. Every day, gaining…a year went by, then more. And now we stand face to face. I don’t want anything from you, except to plant my flag at the site of your leaving. You took something that belongs to one I love. And while I can’t restore what was taken, every day I seek to leave gifts in the places you plundered. This is the brief moment of equilibrium. I draw even with your waning stride. One more step and I’ll be gone, and you’ll be here, stuck with the memories of all that broke in your grasping hands, when it would have been just as easy to whittle truth from bone. But you chose. And I choose too. And we diverge. And I hope our paths won’t cross again. 261015 what's it to you? who go blather from