Quiet back roads
Late day light
Me and my cameras
And a full tank of gas

Windows down as I drive
Locusts in the trees
Imagining their tiny wings
Creating sound with friction

Wooden sheds
Rusted trailers, wild chicory
Cars in their graves
Alone and abandoned

Flowers in a cowboy boot
Hung from an oversized mailbox
Tied with a paisley bow
Faded from the sun

Young does alert
But I pose no danger
Yes, I will shoot them
Using my Canon

Empty farmhouse, still
Ancient oaks hemmed in by hot wire
Fencing in ghosts
And a few head of cattle

Trestle bridges, planked flooring
Once mighty
But still grand
Loud in the crossing

Steepled churches, crumbling cemeteries
Barns, silos, limestone foundations
Unexpected treasures
I seek what I don’t know I’ll find