departing
off the main one
at an acute angle
but the
road isn’t sharp and focussed and of a piece
it’s crumbling
the chemicals of the asphalt
cracking and
preparing a warm bed
for grasses, weeds.
The road
doesn’t go very far
but it seems sure and unafraid
and I think
shouldn’t the things of man
be terribly afraid
in the face of nature
green in leaf and seed?
But the road
old conglomerate
of ancient decay
and stone isn’t to be
divided from the seeds and leaves
so easily.
It’s actually in a state of grace.
Iron nefariousness
doesn’t crush it down any more
it’s blocked off.
Future reclaiming and, perhaps,
preserving the past.
A fork in the path
that is hopeful and terrifying
all at once.
-1997/09/09-
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