A journey across the parking lot usually entails
a dip in asphalt pools crammed with
silver sharks
tin seahorses
rust covered clams
but today it's just an empty
parking lot
Striding, straightbacked
useless north face billowing behind me
like some cloak woven from
strands of siezed children
I must seem terribly impressive
to all the kids
sitting at home
smiling with their families
An empty cigarette carton chuckles at me
and I unleash
a tiny tap
sending it careening
nowhere really
just a few inches
away
I gaze up at the shimmering blue surface of the sky
and the dark depths below my shoes
a two demensional chasm littered with loose cement
that I can't resist nudging free
my wrecking ball feet
reshaping
the face of the earth
That inexplicable urge to sing way too loud
overwhelms me
but a backward glance reveals
a fellow traveler, doubtless seeking
the grassy beaches beyond
so I settle for a tuneless whistle
After all
I'm
almost
there.
Author notes
I wish parking lots had lodges for weary travelers. Or just little stands selling hotdogs and candy.
Comments
-
Candy would work.
I liked this. It was a refreshing change from the emotional depression and passion I write.
-
This is a great descriptive write. I felt as if I was walking with you in this. You provide some nice details and bring the reader into your world. Great job! Blessings, Patty
-
lol i do too, nice write
Adding your comment:
