A Secret Place

The air hums with memory. The trees lean closer, listening
Each step feels remembered and wrong, as if the ground itself
Forgets your weight. Then comes the light—faint, trembling
Almost conquered. You follow it because you must, because even
False hope feels like direction. But when you reach it, there is
No one. Only the hush of something that has been waiting too long

Here, beginnings dissolve into endings. Time folds like mist
Around your pulse... and I am there. Not following. Not ahead