It was late summer
the air was thick and humid
and beyond the great divide of the highway
the single stick of nicotine keeps the
cigarette vendor alive for the day.
The rush is farther from the consummate pollution
the smoke embraces you and feeds of you
until the grander soap relieves you of your being.
The walk was far and boring
in the stretch you turn your head and look for a clearing
you saw a waiting shed and the familiar verses
“Donated by Mayor XXXXXX”
You whispered a curse and stomped your feet.
“That is our money and not yours” you said
Moving on you walked and walked
walking they say makes a person intelligent
and you thought of things forgotten
and things long gone.
You didn’t notice you’re already there
you breathe deeply and took a picture of the place in your mind
“Its beautiful”
You linger for a minute and bade your goodbye.
You walked on.
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