gone with the wind I went,
one summer day in sixteen;
behind in a slew of dust
I left them with the sidewalk chalk.
'should I stay or should I go'
is the question I'm still answering.
because fragments exist all around
where the sidewalk chalk use to be,
slow burn of a fire that burnt through the inside
and now the structure wavers,
littered and haunted with the winds of the past.