We are not tied to this land, you and I, son.
Gypsy souls handed down, wanderlust our inheritance.
Home is no longer:
C/O Derelict Mining Town,
7 Kilometers Beyond the Middle of Nowhere,
Highway of Tears, BC, VOJ.
Once it boasted a grocer gas station hotel bar, and mine.
Now: a bar.
Endako: End of the line.
Blink and you miss nothing.
We could not stay in this land, you and I, son.
Our story glowed brighter the farther south I returned.
My seven year old self’s nostalgia faded in the rear-view mirror,
Leaving, always, the end of the line.