Maps

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Photo: Canva.com

Maps

You carried me on your back 
Before I could walk 
I could see 
Your measured, methodical walk, 
As I grew up, 
I followed the footprints, 
Jumping to gauge the width, 
Through rain and drought-stricken ground, 
I followed you.

Now, the footprints have been washed away, 
Through death, 
Now, 
I look up to the stars, 
To find your route, a map, a consolation in the constellations, 
The sand precedent has become a star-directed route.

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