Broken
They say I learned late to read maps,
Longitudes, latitudes,
And then I was gone
Without a voice to say
I'm sorry.
In a year of silver living,
I found my succor in the heather
Where I was lost and liked to be.
Once, I sat until a man was
Carried down The Seat, broken.
I walked at night with unsure hands,
Once in a dream,
And four times in the haar.
Another man was carried down, broken
And I left that place.
I left my home
For my home.
Men come down from mountains,
And all are broken.
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