Breadcrumb #240


Endless pavement descends into the depths of the smoky sun. 
One unforgiving beam cuts through haze,
pulling at the already cracked, artificial surface.

A tree-
hollow and uprooted-
curls towards the earth from which it once stood. 

She listens to hear that boom-
those feet-
sliding through the blades. 

Beneath the mist from that busted flood light,
Baby feasts
on solitude and peace.

Trails of ash stream from the stoves
of forgotten moments
as the hearth bakes the bricks of time. 

A fire rages in the night.
The Willow declares, 
“I am here.“

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