Time Traveler

Driving back
into a dark overgrown jungle
pushing past awkward and wild

to where the truth lies

rooted deep

impassive
like a tall oak
cooling me
from the blistering sun
as leaves begin to fall away and
expose old scabs
piling offerings
damp mounds
dormant and unruffled
waiting for a familiar face to
burn them on the alter
and appease the gods
applying the salve
soothing the ache
that gnaws
like a fungus
mushrooming
white circles on the lawn.