Losing Track

I lose track of myself

When I land on a good spoor

Marsupial footprints

Even scratches allure

Scats need a good look

I need study the swirls

Tracks need to be followed

Why the markings and curls?

I notice the digging

And imprints, but whose?

Alas! I can’t interpret

All of the clues

Out in the open

Downbeat a dead-end

Up in the whoop whoop

Moving upwind

Was there a meeting?

Was there a fight?

Did they get dinner?

Or just get through the night?

Was it an assembly?

To settle some matter?

A legal proceeding?

Or just regular chatter?

Maybe a commotion?

A narrow escape?

A social occasion?

A significant date?

There must have been madness

There must have been haste

But alas! I lose track

Without time to waste

Frustrated I ponder

I can’t read the signs

Understand the past

I can’t read their minds

I don’t know the language

My senses are blind

To stare back in time

And see what has transpired

But I must be getting home

I now need to make haste

I’m out here all alone

There’s no time to waste

I look around and wander

Did I start from over there?

I could be wrong I wonder.

I’d better start to care.

Turning around in circles

Footprints everywhere

Sudden turns and swirls

Panting in the air

But alas! I am lost

I can’t find my way back

And who knows where I am

Or where is the track