Putting My Feet In The Dirt September Prompt#8 – Divine Interventions

It is an old road

it is not on a map and I do not think it had a name or a marker

to say it was here, welcome, meander along with me for awhile.

I’m three miles from nowhere.

 

It is  an old road where loyal and faithful dogs rounded a blind curve and disappeared

in a heartbeat

carried away by their cousins, flown away by the crows,

to their new home where they wait under a sun that never sets

with their loyalty to sustain them and their love to offer them

companionship until they hear their names called from warm familiar voices again.

 

It is an old road that hides the ruins of a car full of bones

the Green Family and their camping gear stowed in the trunk

fast food wrappers turned to mush and sludge and then frozen into a soft gray mass at

the bones of their feet scattered on the floor in their shoes.

Nikes.

 

The single Wasp that took their lives when it flew into their car

left them a memorial in the tree above the ravine- a nest that glares down at them

the  inhabitants waiting for them to wave their arms and shriek at them again- go

ahead the decedents of that Wasp dare the man who was at the wheel

try to smash us into a paste against the glass,  go ahead and just try it.

 

It’s an old road

and I should have been scared to walk it alone

but the stories it can tell and the ghosts that live there

are treasures in my mind

but am I brave enough to travel it?

That adventurous, that reckless?

Not really.

 

But the road is bathed in gold and orange leaves

the air is soft and cool

the creek in the ravine is singing

about the treasures  waiting to be found.

 

The  soft glow

of the Autumn sun

just before it sets, rests it’s warm hands on my shoulder

voices whisper in my ear

and I walk and I learn and I am there

but that is okay because

I am not really alone.