guiltless i cross

Sand was brought here, so was I

     and here is where I draw my line–

beholden to some before

     I define this side by what I understand

to be the future of becoming

     something else or new.

The wind is

     always changing and

          never making any choices–

my line is blown, gone

     and i do not remember have I moved?

The world around me has

     no ever after

          and I feel like if I could be a tree

          or a map or mountain

          i would feel the same

          guiltless I cross.

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