I didn’t mean to exit, actually,
but I couldn’t see the highway lines
beneath the snow, and by the time
I realized my error, I was already
partway down the exit ramp.
I have spent so many years
as the driver in this seat, thinking
I know just where I am going.
It is not hard to see that I
have also been the snow,
obscuring my own path,
though as we all know
there are infinite ways to get
to where we’re going.
Whatever that means.
And today, I see I am also
the exit ramp with its promise
of having arrived somewhere, and here
in fact, I am, though it is not where
I thought I would be, as it seldom is.