Seeking True North—
I'm a Compass tossed
from Someone's satchel
Vaulting violently
across the terrain—
The needle flying
in every which way
I can't see this face
just its reflections —
in moments of false
suspended backward
slow animation—
doomed to never know
my direction nor
my destination—
But through valleys as
I pass— might I help
someone find their path?