sunset

there is a river

that winds to the sea

the mountains

rise in the distance

the river is hidden in the trees

galloping over rocks

in the sunset

of purple mountains

are shanty towns

people barely getting by

rusty trailers sitting

lopsided on blocks

rvs not on vacation

forgotten shacks

with one dim light on

dotting the river’s bank

the two lane highway

some people traveling

to hell

on an american slice of earth

others to the mountaintop

where the river is obscured

by stars

golden sunsets

gray blue mysteries

but none the less

if you focus out there

on the vistas

are tiny twinkling lights

hovering in the crevices of despair

they are waiting for someone

to say

anyone there

buried in the misery

without bootstraps

the forgotten people

who never arrive

where the river meets the sea

and only the lucky ones survive

— patty