Reading the Rocks

You Are Following Your Nature

The road I traveled

with you in the palm of
my hand has crumbled, slid
to river’s edge below. “Street
Closed” sign keeps me out
while lookiloos ignore
all warnings, steer their tanks
and 4-wheel-drives around
to get a peek of what once
was, prove you are wrong, tend
to the weeds surrounding
your freshly-paved youth.
But you, a million pieces
scattered all across river’s edge,
thirsting, moistening yourself with each
and every drop before you dis-
intergrate back to earth. You
can’t see me looking over
deadly cliffs, wishing I could
travel that road with you again. 


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Written for the Poetic Asides prompt, "On the Road Again."

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