lane

lane

a lonely lane

a lane not many care to take

you can’t tame it

it’s too twisted and dark

yet full of art.

you never know what’s

around the bend only

that it bends you to stay true.

lane is everywhere

all at once,

on asphalt

a road sign

with spruce trees rooted at the edge of the road;

branches swaying in passing.

Almost no one pays lane any mind, just runs over it daily.

They blame lane whenever they hit a pot hole.

As if it’s Lane’s fault!

People are not careful

where they step

and often

spit on

lane.

They don’t understand that without it, they’d be stuck

in the mud

spinning their wheels

going down memory

lane.

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