Roadblock
Riding along as if nothing ever happened
when
all of a sudden
a roadblock
and I'm detoured right past your front door.
Now I find myself checking my rear-view mirror,
looking behind at the road where I have been.
Sometimes,
even though you've found another way,
you'd still rather take that same old route.
It's a comfort to see something so familiar,
a curve or a sign
or a long stretch of highway,
the same road taking you away
or bringing you home,
the same every day,
leading either way.
So an unexpected roadblock
leads me down a road I used to travel,
but the detour ends with just another dead end,
where from my rear-view mirror
I see you playing with your daughter in the yard
as your wife twirls her baton.
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