The Goal

I can’t leave my house
Or answer the phone
I’m going down again
But I’m not alone

Settling at last
Accounts of the soul
This for the trash
That paid in full

As for the fall, it
Began long ago
Can’t stop the rain
Can’t stop the snow

I sit in my chair
I look at the street
The neighbor returns
My smile of defeat

I move with the leaves
I shine with the chrome
I’m almost alive
I’m almost at home

No one to follow
And nothing to teach
Except that the goal
Falls short of the reach