Wooden Tracks

Splintered wooden track,

parched by blistered sun.

Desert dusts its breeze,

wilting weeds on run.

 

Carriage long departed;

by foot, steps the heel.

Searing sands scorch;

waters bow in kneel.

 

Bones stare abandoned;

skeletons line in pour.

Luminous are the scars,

betrayal sought to score.

 

Whistles hummed of blue,

to echo barren sight.

Along the wooden ridge,

sinner treads with plight.

 

Lingering smoke is crisp;

lungs fawn the flame.

Shredded heart in tatters;

love boasts this blame.

 

Withered leather wore;

sole parts its way.

Ravens squawk their cry,

stalking sighted pray.

 

Banished on the crossing,

stumbles foolish fool.

Returning to this exile,

in scent of burning fuel.

 

Another wound to nurse,

but wooden tracks remain.

Onwards chases shadow,

behind the fleeing train.

©Brett Kristian 2019