Tumbleweed
Tumbleweeds don’t have money.
Nothing between those desolate branches.
They are well rounded.
Tumbling around and reaching a toll road.
Passing right through without paying.
Not having money follows most of us around and around.
As we crawl around this life.
Unless you can bounce so you can’t be caught easily.
And you can’t help it.
Tumbleweeds don’t have money, silly.
They might be dead, but…
They still bounce around.
Like zombies that hate money.
And don’t need brains, either.
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