Map

The weary traveler

Came to me cotton-mouthed and hungered

Asking for the map

I gave him sustenance

Nothing more

He asked me to reconsider

Pleaded his case

Said he needed the diagram

To get to his destination

I hesitated knowing

He knew not what he was seeking

Yet his eyes, the beseeching gleam

I could not resist

And I produced the coveted sketch

His fingers clutched it longingly

Making me feel at the moment

I had chosen befittingly

He left to continue on his quest

I decorously felt noble on his leave

And continued about my daily routine

Only to have the fowl who delivers word

Drop the memoir of his voyages

Which contained his confession

Of the loss of that which he sought

His destination was never realized

He was lost along the way

When he failed to note

All the road signs

I had left

Silly wayfarer

Even more ludicrous

Me

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