The Right Way

Cloying is what it is

like the air is sugar water

thick and sweet and hazy

and with every breath I’m choking on it

There might have been a path here once

but probably not

or it decayed with memories of that first rain

the forest bowed under its weight

Not an easy welcome to forget

sugar-spun daggers hung from all the branches

growing longer as the downpour drowned the world

prisms full of lightning I watched

and waited for the first one to fall

thinking maybe it would point me the right way

Photo by Dobromir Hristov from Pexels

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