Dusty black pavement zig zagged with cracks
Browning weeds wilting by the roadside
Crumbling dull dirt that refuses to clump
Trash scattered down its length, faded and no longer trodden upon
No animals come here
No people
Not even insects fly through on their way to a more promising land
Broken glass scattered amongst the weeds
Has lost its gleam and threatens no one
Half buried metal, rusted and dull—it will cut nothing
It’s only been ten days since he left and already you feel the chill winds blowing through