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Dan Steven Erickson

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2021-09-01

weary, I crawled back
to an old familiar place
after a long and laborious journey,
but the doors were locked
and the windows were all broken.
rafters and beams were all out of
whack, and the structural integrity
was gone.

barefooted, I walked on shards
of glass, searching for something,
anything that resembled what I’d
once built with my own hands.
one tiny shelf remained in-tact,
and on that dusty shelf was a
little wooden heart-shaped box.

the contents of the box were simple:
honesty, love, peace, dignity, respect.
I stuffed the contents into my pockets
and walked away from that broken
house, leaving bloody footprints
in my wake. the soft moon rose
and the raven gently called me
home.

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