Part of a gathering
But wandered far afield
The edge of deep woods
whispers low
It had always called her

Back to the meadow
or
Separate, she chooses

Disdain and anger her familiar friends
Hope and faith, new allies

Farther she ventures
Not one gives chase
to her pained heart

Cursing in a backwards glance
Then forewards
Forging a path by her own will
She builds conviction with each footfall

And slips ~ away