Long Way

the long way around, that’s what i live for;

the road that does not go directly home,
which passes things i would not see if i were in a hurry,
which leads into silver midnight woods and fields,
which moves through neighborhoods of silent homes
that here and there shine yellow even at two AM,
which reveal the deer and the skunk in transit,
which make me dream of journeys that will not end;

the long way around that is nonetheless terminal,

the road that eventually loses me,
which does in fact come to a stop at the front door,
which does in fact make me pause before i get out of the car,
which makes me wonder if i should have kept driving
even though i know there was no place left to see,
which makes me wonder if there was ever a different way at all,
which makes me close the door and sit for a while longer

before i go in to sleep,
before i start upon the road again.