Senioritis

Five and Dime flickers

and then fluorescent lights go dark.

Drugstore sighs

and then closes its eyes.

Diner drifts off a bit later,

too full to speak,

and Antiques wearily heeds the hands

of its many grandfather clocks, and

finally, with a creak,

closes up shop.

 

Wheat stops waving, amber

grain still now, as the sun

sinks and the farmer retires to

a hot dinner but

not before grace.

 

And the air is warm and heavy even

as the sky turns red and wispy clouds

drift toward purple mountains.

I sit and watch from the roof

of the gas station, no customers to serve,

nobody in the store.

Nothing to do,

everything to see, so much,

so much stretched out in front of me.

I want to feel like this forever.

 

What a beautiful sight,

the old owner of the Five and Dime calls from

across the street, firmly locking the

heavy glass doors.

And I agree.

But I don’t know, kid. I don’t know if I

can do this no more.

And the sun disappeared behind the

wheat and the corn.

And cars follow roads and old shirts

are still worn.

I just don’t know if I

can do this no more.

Author's Note

inspired by this song, especially from 2:45 on
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XQGZAJfqE5M