Soliloquy by evening
under the chilling purple
of the darkening mist
settling in the treetops
that frosts in place
 the freezing uncertainty
of the vagabond heart
that flows over the space
where this person
once lived a life,

Steadily it encircles,
entwining in its branches,
the unbelieving mind
telling it without mercy
that no longer is there home,
no longer is there care.
There is only the space
of a wide, unquestioning world
that really doesn't care
if this soul
was meant to be,
leaving it rootless
and falling.

Call out over the tumult,
you who would believe
through the icing deep
of this consuming forest
lest this vagabond heart
fails to set its
latest victim free.
Pierce through
the enshrouding fogs
of confusion and grief
that before the
foundations of time,
this person was meant to be,
and will return with me.

copyright 2008, Jerry W. Engler