Marshmallow Fields

The road ahead is muted.

My thoughts are convoluted.

I distract myself for my own protection

And catch a glimpse of the sun’s reflection

On the hood of an oncoming transport.

Shadows in the sky become my last resort

To separate myself from bad signs.

Green and white diamonds and yellow dotted lines

Lose their meaning when you join your hands to pray

And bold arrows point the way

To a far off city where I don’t belong—

A place where everything appears oblong.

I try not to be a coward

But, as the cars move forward,

My heart shifts into reverse

Following the pull of a passing hearse.

Out the window there’s hay wrapped in white

And a scarecrow holding a kite.

I see a magical land of dreams

And the world I know comes apart at the seams.

I feel my scars being made anew

While dusty clouds and faded blue

Are painted on a lake that whispers my name,

And I’m convinced I’ll never return from whence I came.