Solemn shadows
languish about
in the heat of a stale sun.
The world stretched out like taffy
yawning at the end of day.

Rust caked memories
cover everything the eye sees
red cataracts
over golden iris’
[keeping secrets]

A lone desolate road
lays against the earth
like an abandoned parade float
absent the anticipation of its creators
the pomp of its apogee.

No one is there to hear
the road signs speak,
every mile or so,
reminding would be travelers
where they have been-
where they go.