To get lost while knowing the way
When the evening is warm and simple
To get lost because I still can
Stay away from a name
To get lost on purpose, on a whim
Because the way is lonesome and dim
When the moon is full
Of many faces but not of that name
To get lost alone, to get lost with no reason
Except to look for the way, the old way
Where the full moon left shadows and scars
Upon the oak tree at the crossing of times
To get lost and find that oak tree
Upon its bark a name carved out
Of hope that the way may get lost again
And keep the tree, and the carved name
Out of its way
August 5, 2018
© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2018
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