We gathered at the center where all roads meet.
One left breadcrumbs that were eaten by song birds.
Two looked back to find a sand storm erasing her progress.
Three was on a journey to wherever she found herself.
Four had a compass that kept forgetting its purpose.
Five arrived with a plan, this destination was on her itinerary.
We told our epic tales, the words tumbling out in haste--
In a place where time had no agency, no pull, no meaning.
In conclusion, we started to breath again, to look outward.
At the life all around us, at the horizon, at the sky above.
Stars that were no longer there lit our upturned faces.
