The Old Rusty Gate

Alone it stands amid the tangled weeds- a rusty gate, ajar- that leads nowhere. Wrought iron, tall, it surely served all needs protecting entry into what was there. What secrets does it hold, this rusty gate? How many passed unto the other side? Where are the remnants of its purposed fate that trees and weeds replaced to fill and hide? Just passing through, I have no access to the history of this abandoned land; perhaps a small estate, a church? No clue presents itself- as here alone I stand. I walk away- this vision in my head; how ravages of time- no truths unthread. June 26, 2022 Contest: One In Five Poetry Contest Sponsor: Joseph May Theme: The Old Rusty Gate