no direction

in limbo
is a strange place to be.
neither here nor there,
not down
or up.
somewhere in between.
I look at the arrow
on
the roof to see which
way it points,
but it's still, as
dead in the non wind
as metal can be.
I turn to each direction,
which way,
looking down the hollow
roads,
which way will this
feeling of being lost
end, which
way will set me free.