Detour

Feeling good.

Life laying in

front of me

like a resplendent

grassy meadow.

A slight breeze

brushes my face,

and I here birdies

chirp lightly all around

me.

A plane flies above,

with the word “Detour”

on a sign tagging along

behind it.

 I observe my surroundings

again.  I stand in a

parking lot of a

state hospital. Sent there

because of my tendency

to try and kill myself.

The brick building

looms over me.  I follow

the case worker inside.

She neglected to let me smoke.