How long?

How long is it?
This strange road you walk.
I wish I could walk it with you.
That I could scout out ahead of you
And return with news of the terrain to come.

That I could hand you a canteen full of
Cool water
Which would wash the thick spittle
Of dayindayout from your tongue,
Rinse the frustration from the corners of your mouth
And make everything go down just a bit
Easier.

I wish I could answer the incessant beeping
With the sound of freedom:
The rip of velcro as I remove
Strappy, bindy, cuffy things
From all around you.
From your wrists
Your ankles
Calf.

I wish I could skip alongside you
And listen to you sing a song
Just a touch off-key.
That I could hear the sound of your footfall
On the road,
Taking a pace you choose,
Scraping a rhythm in the dust and gravel
That is all your own.

I wish I could breathe in a little of the dust
Conjured by your journey.
That I could close my teeth on some of the grit
And feel close to you in this way.

But I scan the horizon for you.
Impatiently, faithfully.
Knowing you will crest the final hill
Soon.