Eyes were like a window
Transparent as glass
Revealing nothing but the slate concrete and ruffled grass beyond them
Gripping his sky-clad hand hard,
We trekked down the quiet road
His voice;The wind whispering to me
But as I approached
There sat an unfinished house
It's skin bare
pasted paper on rigid bones-
blue grafitti being it's only pattern
It stood lonely
Abandoned
On the empty lot
Dull panes of glass reflecting the reality into the barren dirt around it
The graying sky is held up behind it
That's when the mirage faded
That's when I found myself;
Heavyhearted
continuing my journey down the quiet road;
Traveling light.