Abandoned Dreams

By David A. Goodrum

Across from ripped-up tracks

where trains no longer echo

collapsed shacks retain ghosts

of exhausted bodies.

Under a broken and grey caved-in roof

beneath overcast sky

walls in shambles

floorboards in splinters

sun and rain bleached log walls

tilt and sag. Bruised beams, a missing door

and five bare wood bunks

no longer harbor restless sleep

lost now for decades.

Ambitions folks came to excavate

buried them nearby

in mines dug and sluices run.

Prospectors pictured thin rich veins

but imagined wealth turned to failed

extruded ribbons of tailings piling up.

Through the sill- and pane-less windows

a view remains of verdant fir green

a partial recall of promising landscapes

caught in a death-crawl of brambles and vines

that will eventually envelop all.

---