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Vacant Space
The sun is touching the skyline,
The distant buildings cloak the ground in shadow.
The skies, dusk orange,
In contrast with the cool land below.
The air gets brisk
Around this time.
The dirt and gravel of this road
Crunch with each step.
Each step bumpy and harsh
On the bottom of boots.
The space where boot and pants meet
is bitten by the chilly air.
Rough grass
litter the other side of the fence.
The fence is made of
criss cross lines.
The still box carts on rails
Set a serene mood.
The sun sets lower
on this remote stretch.

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