Yellow

I’m walking the fine yellow line
step by step
I’m breaking rhythm
where others have walked before
where the dogs rot
Beyond freshly painted fences

The stench is in the air
on the fine yellow line
but I’m walking
like I’ve never walked before
one foot in front of the other
looking down
looking up
smiling at you
Screaming inside
on the yellow line

Waiting for the roots of the trees
To catch me by the ankles
and carry me
under

the yellow line.