On a splintered Saturday night I sit on a wood panel floor.
Below it there is cement.
Below that there is bedrock.
Below that is the bones of a better world,
buried and forgotten.
My feet have walked many miles, but not this far.
Today my wisdom stretches to encompass the miles I've walked,
And fails.
Miserably.
I wonder how the bedrock feels,
With the weight of the cement and wood panel floor and me.
More so, I wonder how the bones feel,
Buried and forgotten.
With the light of day such a faraway friend,
Who has not been seen for a hundred thousand years.
How lonely.