the abandoned house
There are faster ways to get through Texas. Not this one-lane highway
trawling through towns a little past their expiration date, still clinging
to the rusty remnants of a gloried past. But when you’re not in a hurry
to arrive at your next stop, and when what you need – a map, water – is sitting
beside you in the passenger seat, the explorer gets the best of you.
And so you leaned back into the drive, your foot tucked in the steering well.
Then, past a spindly chorus of trees, it appeared: an abandoned house, due
for demolition. You don’t know, exactly, what peeled you from the car, but the door fell
open and there you were, trudging up a dirt track to see the ugly damage time had wrung.
Yet even brokenness is tinged with beauty, echoing some sweeter song still on your tongue.