Poetry

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By the side of the road one dirty, well-worn boot now lies
Conjuring images of gutted wagons and ghosts of pioneers
As the insatiable appetite of progress slowly buries them under a silent blanket of rust and silt
A wave of loneliness and the finality of death sweeps over me
And I think of the life that
filled that boot
Unfinished plans, shelves filled with projects, back burners left simmering
Urgency consumes me, as the insignificance of
my own life takes my breath away

What will I leave? What will I accomplish?

Or will my life accumulate to
One boot
Lying by the side of the road
Stirring the heart of another passerby
Who might actually stop, pick up the boot and weave a magical yarn about a
young mans rich life
And the highway that extracted its toll of tread in exchange for passage and tales of adventure

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