It was familiar even at a distance away,
Those rustle among the far away trees,
Where sunless days sink in evening fog,
As ways of history yield to daily traffic.
He saw the footprint leading elsewhere,
Restless tread gaining pace and weight,
Could pause, or move, to left or to right,
He found his compass in tune with map.
Cold winds hissing like remote whisper,
Stopped him midway in a definite recall,
Dropping unfinished business never his,
He stepped out silent, sure and in
stride.
(2012)