3 Ways to Follow The Path

Holding his hand, with
A playfully pulling grip, as he ran
Her through freshly cut grass with
An unopened bag of licorice, in her hand.
She could giggle and he talk for days about
Favorite colors and uninterrupted
Futures. They predicted where they were
Heading along the woven path
So many others tried to find.
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They limped on steps of
Mahogany stairs that followed the cracked
Broken road where the grass had turned to
Mustard and their mouths shared a
satisfiable pause. They dragged their feet

Slowly, back to the beginning
Knowing, once they reached it,
It would be the end.
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He held a pace that
Kept up with his heartbeat.
Walking where the grass curdled
With split ends. As he crinkled that old
Twizzler bag, he turned,
Where there was no way, paved out,
Ahead. He walked off
Into the pasture, leaving
Crisp footsteps behind him.