Reaching A Junction
It's a sleepy day today
the sky is dusted
with bullet smoke and powdered sugar.
The barren trees
rigidly shake their long white fingers.
raking the sky.
Passes a decrepit barn, leaning ever so slightly in the beckoning wind.
He passes an abandoned bus
surrounded by angry cedar trees.
patches of chartreuse grass dot the countryside
little mishaped blots of rainwater abundantly gather.
More abandoned farm houses.
Rows of cottonwoods with a creek winding alongside
A weathered barn-red fence stretches across the lonely hills.
We've reached a Junction.