Yearning Into Reverie
On dark, cold soil,
atop the soaring green turf,
lay cold, rusty, nostalgic houses.
The path that led to them
was faded and shallow,
with the feeling
it could cave in
at any moment.
Scattered along that path
were derelict vehicles
from different eras
each one different heaps of life.
Fog filled the houses.
It filled the cars too,
like a raging campfire,
too sinister
to be put out.
And yet here I am,
wandering through this old-world neighborhood,
yearning into reverie
this faded memory
feels like the perfect remedy.
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