Restless

My feet
ache for familiar paths
the roads that cross
through fields of
the expected.

Not greatness
but the mediocre
manufactured
like a McChicken,
always the same.

Now I choose
the grinding path up
sometimes
the ascent makes me restless
like waiting for a bridge to lower
so you can drive across.

Patience is not my virtue,
I am the captain of my soul.