Place

I walk a road. It leads me to a place I have never seen. I stop and look at that place, to see if it has glowed. Looking for some type of glean. The place I visit is mowed. I try and make amends with it. The place moves its own way. I look at the place and the bits. The place is old and decrypted now. I feel kind of gray. And I wonder how. The place does too. I sit there and vow. To never never figure out who.