The road I run
is littered with garnets and blackberries
It hasn’t rained enough in weeks
The ground is hard, hot, and unyielding
The bass and bluegill in smaller ponds
float to the surface
The water is rank with the smell of fish
I was never privileged
to experience the stages of mourning
when the staples of my sea
floated up
I’m grateful for the toughness
Clean water is inaccessible
to most,
the rest take water
for granted
Everything is borrowed time
“I’ve been passing time
watching trains go by,
all of my life”
You are still the rails,
the unflinching direction
of my life
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