Though this is my heart,
a painful organ filled with reminders
the beating motion of a connected vessel of matter
the breathing apparatus nearby,
together throwing caution to the wind
and demanding the brain to step in place in time.
A heart might fear the worst when becomes broken
shattered remnants of a previous time,
when the ache would be more of a challenge
than the true existence of my well-being.
I stood outside last night again just wondering
if that country road really can run away forever.
© Scott F Savage 3/2021