I walk alone.
I will always walk alone.
I look behind me,
sure that you were there.
All I see is the print
of my own shoes.
It was only an echo,
a reflection of the past,
that caused me to turn around.
I was certain that someone
had been there,
a comfort, a strength,
I could lean upon.
It was but a vision,
a fantasy made solid
just enough to feel real.

© Johanna Fugitt 2017