The road stretches ahead of me,
curving as it crests the hill,
disappearing into moonlight.
I am certain of this step only,
this shared breath of air,
this crunch of soil and stone.
These dusty shoes know my feet,
and both hands shine with silver.
A remembered tune awakens
with all its ribbons flying;
coming to me whole:
every word and every voice that sang.
I hum along, stepping in time,
as small brown birds circle above,
their song like threads of light,
their cry, clear as a flute,
flying open mouthed into the wind.