Lonely drifting
sheets of paper
tumble from here
to there, ancient
sentinels guarding
the roads of my life.
Drab buildings, dimmed
by the veil of time
stand as monuments to
my triumphs and mistakes.
Looming large, a precious
few cast shadows that
I may never escape
but just as many
shine so brightly that
even near the end
of this tired life
on earth, I shall still
see them gleaming
in the night.

                AcB        8.11.98