These gravel and dirt roads mark my path. You’re GPS can’t find me. A map? Little help. Back roads are my kingdom. The uneducated eye will never understand.
I arrived here by grace. My choice was taken from me. But consider my options. Crowded enmass. Free to roam. Your blocks are my miles. The noise of traffic replaced here by winds that sing.
Somewhere in the debris, you’ll find me. What’s left at least. If you stop by, I’ll find you first. That chill in the air in the desert heat. That will be me. I’m forever tied to this crossroad.