THE OUTSKIRTS

"Gas" by Edward Hopper
“Gas” by Edward Hopper

No one’s been by for years
and one of his biggest fears
was that he would die out here
alone, and no one would know.
The point of no return
sits a mile down the road
and the occasional lost traveler
would goad his excitement,
but leave him in a cloud of dust.
He must close down the station
and rejoin civilization.
His routine never changes.
He dusts off the pumps
encrusted with years of isolation
and failure. The readings are recorded
in a never ending string of naught.
A rumble in the distance arouses,
leaving him shaking in his trousers
only to be disappointed again.
The pumps stand sentinel,
grave markers for a dying breed.
He needs human contact
but all he attracts is dirt.
Lost in the outskirts.

© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013

Response to MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY – Day 10 (Alone, or at a Party) Ekphrastic Poem

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4 thoughts on “THE OUTSKIRTS

  1. claudsy

    I love this, Walt. You have captured the essence of something that’s found in many places out West. There are hundreds of these places with a small house being supported by a long gas station a hundred miles from anywhere. One I remember so well from the early ;70’s was in a wee burg named Burris, WY, pop. 2. A couple lived there until their deaths, and Burris–the town and the couple–disappeared from the maps.

  2. Pingback: Britney, you totally did it | lost in translation

  3. Pingback: SUN IN AN EMPTY ROOM – THROUGH THE EYES OF A POET'S HEART

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