To Dusk

He wanders down the road.
Step. Crunch. Step. Crunch.
Leafy dirt underneath consumes him.

The trees are fallen
The light is dim
The birds aren’t calling
For him

He wanders down the road
Far from hasty souls
Benevolence needs him.

Can he hide away?
Under the forbidden tree?
Intertwining her, into the leaves.

He hasn’t seen the sky,
Since he got on the road,
That sunny, august afternoon.
When she told him. And she left. And he left.

He decided to stop walking.
He decided to build a new road.
To dusk.