Scarred pavement cuts through dampened earth. 
Nature resists - or competes. 
A dropped acorn sits crushed open,
Popped by fast spinning tires, cars bumping and crunching.
An upside turned leaf lays wrinkled, but flattened into the grooves of concrete. 
To the right, a mossy grey mailbox leans with the flag turned down. 

Distant sweet smelling wisps of new paint
Interlace with dank dirt underneath wet piles of leaves.  
One singular dried out cornstalk reaches for the heights of telephone poles,
Ignoring and towering over an ombré rusted fire hydrant. 

A previously soggy, now dry crumpled wad of paper towel sits next to
A plastic fork in a patch of sand. 
Both distracting my eye from white flowers blooming on a leather-leaved magnolia -
As I walk on Mikell Lane.

Branches sloping downwards sheltering 
A concrete grave.
Tangles of vines, 
Unkempt like nature’s dreadlocks.
Speckles of yellow leaves turning 
Between green scenes
An iridescent yellow butterfly flits above 
Tree tops highlighting
Red berries sharing branches with red leaves -
Early gifts telling of the seasons impending change.
Two empty red lawn chairs, 
Bathing in the sun, 
unshadowed by lovers or friends.