The clouds linger, impetuous waves overwhelmed by the pastel twilight. They may dissipate and make the earth seem small in comparison to the vastness of the sky, or they may persist, clinging to their existence a little longer, and obscure the cosmos until the morning.
Decked out in sweats an aging couple enjoys the breeze and the blossoming dandelions that adorn the piles of shit the horses have taken in their boredom. I pass a tan horse with matted coat and we exchange looks of indifference. The bicycle squeals in agony from neglect. The tire parts a patch of sand and I feel like a Moses inspiring a desperate people. Only, I look back to see the empty expanse of road I’ve traversed, suffused with the odor of spring.
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