Walking down along the broken pathway,
grass and mud among the concrete and bricks,
past the abandoned building where
a lone light still shines at night,
past the sentinel call box
with its ever-empty dial tone
unanswered by the world,
tossing an apple in the air,
up and down, up and down,
daring gravity to claim it,
as if that would make a difference,
crossing the faded pavement street
without looking anywhere but down
and a beat-up pickup drives by
without slowing, without noticing,
and on around the corner
up to the door with peeling paint
where a key seems rather pointless
and down the echoing hallways
with flourescent lighting
and red-brown duplicate doors
with the half-open window at the end
letting in the cold air, then
finally sitting, looking up, and out
and seeing that at least the sky
is still some shade of blue.

09/20/2003

Posted on 09/20/2003
Copyright © 2024 Amanda J Cobb