The Old Road Poem by Liilia Talts Morrison

Going down the old road
Late afternoon
Sun hazy
On the dusty windshield

A wayside parking lot full
For Saturday night
Worn watering hole hanging on
As new places rise
It's still holding on
Holding on
Like the man
Sitting on the barstool
Just holding on

Going down the old road
That hotel from those days
They talk about
Each year they talk
A little less

The man on the porch
White beard unkempt
Bright for an instant
In that lazy sun
Going down soon
He no longer cares to shave
Makes no difference anyhow

Going down the old road
Junk shop shuttered
Time to go home
Darkness comes fast
Shadows rising
Cover the old road
Worn railroad ties
No longer used

Going down the old road
Car crawling
Over bumps and pebbles

Once there were
Friends things
Stalling fears
Long buried

Now returning
Uninvited
A large black wave
Washing away
People like flotsam
Now so far away
Unreachable

Nothing much left now
Just that old road
Day wearing down
Stray rays of fools gold

I ride into darkness
Again a lost child
Homeless
Hands empty
Feet dusty
On that old road
Down that old road.