Stephen Jarrell Williams

No Man’s Path
Fewer footsteps these last few months
Less trash from a foodless land
Empty backpacks left behind
Not a grave mound near
Songs no longer whispering
Behind the far trees lumps of decay and bones
Dust covering most of the bent grass
The path a thinning trail
Scavengers’ fur lies in lines from starvation
The wind dying
The dimming sun blends into the night moon
Man or woman hasn’t left a dream here
Something like smog in the air
The scent of losers everywhere
As a few of us still chase the glories of heaven
Birds have not flown high for years
Swirls of feathers lace the treetops
Tiny eyes like pin holes full of sand
Ants cover hilltops like dry beads moving
Swarms taking their time
Silent with their billions of mini legs
Scent of far cities crumbling
Hum of drums on the skin of earth
Now a nothingness of importance
No man’s path from one dead-end to the other
The way is not by foot
But by heart.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s