This Way
白九 2026.1.31
I asked him the way to the market.
“This way.” He pointed—certain, calm, and kind.
His finger fixed the road in place,
His steady eyes were locked on mine.
I walked the path his hand had drawn,
While doubt kept pace along the way.
The ground felt wrong beneath my feet,
Yet I wore faith for him to see.
Only when his gaze fell off
Did silence loosen what was true.
I turned back once, then chose again
A road that felt more right than new.
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