Sisyphus Steps..

Photo by miro polca on Unsplash

Stepping on broken glasses, eggshells, bonfires grilled duck heads and he/she/it is stepping.
Looking back mainly down, some lost words in pocket notes, and counting breaths on hold, rolling staggering pieces of rocks. Who’s rolling?
I sigh, what steps are to be taken next and send a tiny Euroasian Wren to disfavor such behavior..
Tongue zest to keep mouth locked from kissing off reasons to progress.
A cynical feat.
Moving forward, nature asked to please a foreign wind and he/she/it doesn’t know the future of thyself (who’s that?) but to invest in stepping stones..

I’ll wait for you there alone, I’ll wait for you there like a stone.
Someone, I love who just died, mentioned on his rock-bottom mountain-top tomb.