Parking Lot

A slice of life
Nothing profound
Just me under a tree
A parking lot
A collection of cars
A wet flag wilting on a pole
Our American dreams—rain soaked
A man locks his car and goes inside
A woman stares into a decrepit shed
A man with a handful of keys
Locks and unlocks doors
Opening and closing
Keeping the outside in
And the inside out
The light shifts to grey
A strip of grass–lime green
In the silver rain–rejoicing

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