I lose track of myself
When I land on a good spoor
Marsupial footprints
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
