Searching Shades for Blazes

The last verse of the first,
You make note to yourself,
Roving through offerings

Roadside in the sunlight,
Looking for something good,
Hoping for and fearing

You’ll find it, the passage
That breaks inside of you,
Like a new opening,

New grove for memory
To return and return
To seeking some solace

For not having found out
The way there on your own.
So far, though, nothing much

This afternoon. You note
The telltale gaps, worthwhile
Lines—that first phrase, that last.