the road to nowhere

the sky looks warm
as waves curl window pane's view,
but i look past the rising heat
to feel the air of winter-

dead leaves on the dry grass
like the ones that made piles
when kids jumped in,
digging tunnels
in puffy jackets.

and fingers that curled around your mouth
to bring back color-
white to pink,
and pink to red.
emptied lungs
that breath the air from skies above,
air that quietly dives down,
blowing smooth lines into the hair on your face-
barely a sound,
barely air.

it's days like this
when i would go to somewhere i've never been before
and stay a while,
breathing the air.
bryson city, north carolina,
maybe i'd ride the train
that cuts through town,
and i'd wave my hands at the crowd
like they were all my family,
close ones i would be away from for a while-

i'd take the road to nowhere
until the road to nowhere ends,
and walk the woods
the cherokee did
at the end of the road to nowhere.

1 comment:

adam brimer said...

i have a photo of that train...