Walking the Monochrome — A Dream

A close-up photograph of pebbly, worn, old macadam.
“Asphalt” — C.Birde, 1/21


Walking through

a monochrome sea

of time-washed


devoid of lines,

of delineations…

On and onward

Each footfall,

a pulse unheard

Tirelessly moving

through this lost

and absented place

beneath first one,

then a second

overpass pressed –

in heavy arch and


a frown, a grin –

against a watery sky


the dull shadows

of those vulturous


consumed by half-light…

A road ahead,

hitherto unseen,



curving outward

to meet a wide,

empty highway


on the further curve

(that generous hip

of curb),

lawn- and folding chairs

arranged and occupied

as if to spy

some soon-to-come


Recognizing one

(see? he waves?)

among their numbers

Waiting now for the

solitary car to pass,

then another,

until it’s safe

to cross and join

the small throng gathered

in a wedge of light

that sifts between

the intersecting over-

passes sweeping

past and


— C.Birde, 1/21

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