It’s been a long road and a long time.
“Time waits for no one” as the saying goes.
you’re busy with little things
of the wondrous adventures ahead.
The next day
you’re wishing your adventures
the enjoyment of little things along the way.
Dreams take us places reality cannot.
Visions of shattered spires in the distance,
guide one to the cold,
darkness of space
driven to hide in the pile of boxes
in a basement
with lost marines,
an Indian scout,
and the cavalry sent to rescue them all.
The Marines find their way to the stairs
and attempt to escape the wretched mounds.
Years of ruins,
toppled and tossed
like wooden blocks on the floor
of a child’s playroom.
The Indian scout is trapped.
Trapped beneath notebooks and scribblings,
decades of creativity
left in the wastelands of dust and rubble.
Finally, the cavalry,
once a team of brave riders capable of so many feats
lay decimated along with their surroundings.
A giant tiptoes
through the remains of the forgotten field.
The lives lost,
the history jaded,
still the remnants remain.