Into My Past
I head west into the setting sun.
One hand shading my eyes from the glare,
The other hand planted firmly on the wheel
Keeping me on the straight and narrow.
I glance at my rear-view mirror and
See my past following closely behind.
I mentally edit the bucket list
Of things I have yet to complete.
The list is longer than I had hoped.
Not quite ready to face the darkness of night
I begin searching for an exit.
One not listed on the map,
One that will turn me around
And put the setting sun at my back.
One that will put me on the straight and narrow
Heading directly into my past.
Roy W. Backes
© 2014
Roy W. Backes - Poetry 