Blank Slate

By Christine Leoni

I walk down the broken steps onto the cracked path.
It leads to an irregular dirt road winding underneath a canopy of trees.
The holes in the sky blind my sight momentarily and warm me from within. 
The tips of the pines sway sending a chill of air across my face.
My cheeks flush, and my nose runs as I inhale the frigid air.
Nature’s tiny birds flitter by while muck squishes beneath my feet.
A brook attempts to submerge, aimlessly traveling speckled leaves.

There in the crossing the frame of an old lodge leans precariously to one side. 
It calls to me with its jagged windows and warped entrance crumbling beneath the piles.
I gave myself away continuously to those who professed love, my fire was not tended.
Entering the decrepit door of the lodge, I slip into a manageable time when all was possible. 
The frayed rug at the center is where contemplation begins.
The lodge wraps me in a shell of safety like a cocoon.
The luxuries of this existence are what dreams are made of.

I pine for early years when the slate was blank and balanced.
Shedding the past is the splintering wood of the old lodge.
The sun is fading between the trees casting shadows.
I rise and leave the ruins digging deep for strength.
New beginnings call me to the present.
Latching the door, I won’t look back.
I choose the new path, the blank slate waiting for footsteps. 

Christine Leoni lives in Tallahassee, Florida with her family. The journey of life and the dream of becoming a writer has led to this new, exciting path. Christine’s poems are inspired by the common stages of life that many women encounter. She plans to continue to write, inspire, educate, and encourage others. When she is not writing, Christine enjoys traveling and Ballroom Dancing.