vagrants, all

constellations of miscellany permeate
the unfolding panorama
of the abandoned stretch of road.

bent hubcap with five spokes, not seven;
faded coke bottle, the original classic, not the knockoff;
flattened tobacco tin, not sure the brand nor whether it matters;
number 2 pencil, needs sharpening and the eraser is gone;
discharged tire tread from an 18 wheeler long since departed.

vagrants, all.

how do they relate?
what stories have they to tell?
and who will listen without haste to silence their testimony?

the windblown plain darkens on the horizon,
bringing with it the distant bank of clouds.
A cool breeze foreshadows the coming of rain,
while the discarded miscellany sits forgotten,
much like the progenitors of its demise.

One wonders whether they will survive the coming night.
One wonders who will join their sojourn.

7 September 2008 by Glen Alan Woods