Cold grey eyes stare out

Across a vast and endless lot

To that big box store across the highway

From the doorway of the lonely motel

He stands and stares as his trench coat

Swipes impatient at his legs

Coaxing him to move onward

A housekeeping cart a few doors away

Appears abandoned until her seeking hand

Stretches out of a room towards it

Some stains are harder than others to remove

He stares at that hand and imagines

It striking the air in vain

A few feet from her a makeshift grave

He smiles and wonders to himself

If anything would change for her

If she knew today might have been her last

Stepping forward and away from her

Both their journeys continue

But only the traveler knows

The bloody road that lies ahead