meet me in the small-time ruin, not the Ozymandias of great nation era-marking, centurion legacy.
Traverse across patched up sidewalk crack, student housing slated for demolition,
past the whittled down patch of forest surrounded by concrete park, lawn, and swing sets. the hollowed-out barnhouse almost burnt down in our last year of high school, dried out wells surrounded by hedge growth-
do you turn your eyes to an unfamiliar horizon? the new rise of it, sunset casting gargantuan shadows over lots reclaimed by wildflowers
the streets don’t feel the same, I once walked it a thousand times
but today find me waiting for an old town that doesn’t exist
nothing -not the leaves, not shadow, not city, not snowfall like they used to
did they ever?
