Tracking . . .

back through the undergrowth
I see the broken twigs
and bent grasses of thousands.

Any could have been me.
They fan out to many
points of origin,

of which one is home.
It’s less important
I can’t find the way back

than the immediate need
for shelter, food,
a welcoming voice.

I turn to find the future.
Each footfall
is true.

Despite @miridunn’s little joke, the word is footfall, not football. Sorry to disappoint fans of the game.

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