Seeking True North—

I'm a Compass tossed

from Someone's satchel

Vaulting violently

across the terrain—

The needle flying

in every which way

I can't see this face

just its reflections —

in moments of false

suspended backward

slow animation—

doomed to never know

my direction nor

my destination—

But through valleys as

I pass— might I help

someone find their path?