The Prospect Of Andy

His house was in a maze
of tangled streets,
none running straight
or for long.
Whenever I came to visit,
I’d complain about
getting lost on the way.
Each time he’d
tell me the same thing
as a helpful tip:
“The Prospect of Andy,”
naming a street
that ran right into his.
But even then,
finding it in a labyrinth
was a chore.
Just a year before his
cancer diagnosis
proved to be terminal,
a new bike path
made the trip simpler.
There it is,
its intersection clearly
marked for me,
the Prospect of Andy
leading to his
house just blocks away.
An avenue that
now commemorates
his passing and
the reason I do not turn.

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