I’m either too thick or too thin. Rarely just right, bland and begging for toppings.

I never talk, I never bark, But I show you where you stopped in the dark. I rest where the pages part, What am I with a quiet heart?

I hang where winter whispers low, A stolen kiss is what you owe. Not rooted deep in earth below, I cling to limbs where cold winds blow. Meet beneath me, yes or no? Speak my name, what am I? Go.

I have a back, but no head. I have stripes, but I am not a zebra. I live on the road, but I never drive. I help you walk, but I never move. What am I?