I feel your footsteps behind me;
but when I turn around,
there's no one there,
not a man, not a tree, nothing.
You have an innate ability
to hide yourself from my life.
One minute you're there, smiling;
and the next I'm here alone,
wrapped in solitude.
Solitude can be a comfort
when the mundane is overwhelming;
but too much of it becomes lonesome,
a loneliness that is unceasing.
