She leaves no breadcrumbs as she once did, nothing for me to
follow, leaving me to fend for myself, no clues as to what life is like for her
now, in the wilderness where she resides,
no evidence to suggest she does well or not, nor great plans
she might have devised for the remainder of her life, choosing perhaps to adopt
to a much more laid back lifestyle, free of badges of distinction, nor the glory
she seemed to need so desperately in the past, as if she’s thrown all that baggage
off the train she travels on, needing none of it in the new life she’s chosen
for herself, true or not true, who can say, I just stare down at the tracks
here, looking for breadcrumbs that do not exist, as she fades in the distance.
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