Framed by reference:
to conform or depart,
leaving a trail of bread in my wake.
Fearful of the limb end and
of not getting lost, I walk on.
The familiar holds little comfort, yet
the wild universe feels like home.
Small hearts wing my way.
Frequencies strung with information
rain through my mind
and hold my shadows behind the sun.
A crow caws my name;
I do not answer.
The poet has no words.
(breadcrumbs: wordwatch.com; crow: telegraph.co.uk)