Through the Dust

Poetry Wednesdays4

Far away in a city once forgot
Where the streets weren’t paved
And the trees were left to rot
A man and his friend turned
Down an alley filled with trash
They shuffled past the newspapers
And waded through the ash

They walked away from safety
And toward the dark side street
Where once there were parties
And full banquets to eat
Neither of them spoke a word
As they pushed through the ruble
They hadn’t heard a sound
Except some caws from a bird

The man finally reached the end
With his friend right behind
They stared at the wall
They had come all that way to find
In that wall was a window
With a couple missing panes
The light shone inside the building
Illuminating the dust in the air
And the floors covered in stains

The man leaned onto his toes
Peering through the window
While his friend watched him point
To the last remaining rose
It rose through the hardwood
And searched for the gleaming light
It held onto each red petal
As a only a frightened child could

The man reached into his pocket
And took his fist out of his shirt
He leaned over the window sill
And sprinkled out some dirt
He looked back at his friend who
Pulled a flask up from his boots
The friend leaned through
To pour some water near the roots

They both were still as they looked
At the scene they just created
Hoping that they could come back
Through the filth and the dust
Through the alley and the streets
To find the life that permeated

Amidst the green and red sight
The two men clung to the belief
That they would return through
The once inhabited city
And find not not one rose
But two

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4 thoughts on “Through the Dust

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