Going Halfway to Nowhere

The gravel keeps shifting beneath my shoes

I count the crunches as if rhythm could anchor me.

A street lamp flickers. I tell myself it means something,

Though I don’t know what, maybe the world is reminding me

nothing holds steady not even the light.

I left the house without locking the door.

Or maybe I did. Maybe it's open, I can’t remember.

Lately, memory slips like water through cloth.

But I remember the weight of how silence clings like wet fabric to skin.

My hands stay full. I pretend my burden is light:

Its either an assignment, my job, a pot I forgot on the stove.

Children watching. Husband waiting.

And I, I'm just somewhere in the room.

My mind is lost but my smile is found, im here, but...

What was I doing again? I don’t know.

Somewhere between where I was and wherever I’m going,

my mind wanders like stepping into

a sentence I forgot to finish.

And maybe that’s what I am now:

a half-thought, a half-journey, still walking.

Still listening for the echo of completion, peace

Looking for that finished sentence

that has yet to come Queen, that has yet to come.