Map in hand,
we walk.
We once had the exact coordinates, but they've long been forgotten or maybe discarded when we were cocky enough to think we'd never need them.
Compass in hand,
we walk.
North remains illusive as the rose spirals around never finding its magnetic landing or maybe finding it but continuing the search.
Metal detector in hand,
we walk.
The beeping falsely alerting us to the potential glimmering gold beneath our feet or maybe to a lone penny that fell unnoticed from a wallet.
Flashlight in hand,
we walk.
The path brightens but is never in full view as the surrounding shadows petsist.
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