81 Invades with highway sounds
Crushes the grind of crickets;
opossum roams the
searching for errant Cheetos
Sniffing dirty sneakers.
Nearby, the filth of
empty 12-packs and peed-in plastic bottles
thrown out from car windows.
A half-empty unzipped suitcase covered in moss
A deer skull. An empty fifth of Jim Beam home to a slug.
Shell casings. The remnants of a sleeping bag
Now home to earwigs.
What was a campsite.
A 300 pound black bear bolts up the ravine-
readily visible in the empty trees.
Thirty years ago a plane crashed into this mountain,
Supposedly still there.
The body was pulled out. No skeleton
To join the rest of this graveyard.
It’s near the microwave tower
If you can make it that far.
Old pottery, a tomahawk,
In the dry river
That once quenched the soldier’s thirst
And washed wounds,
Now entombed in layers of stone.