The country road is a dusty strip of asphalt extending farther than the eye can see
The edges are frayed, crumbling
Cracks pepper the road, a few randomly tarred over
Little to see in any direction
Today the heat rolls down in waves, hotter than yesterday
The plains surrounding you are the beige color pallet of Wyoming late summer
Watch the painted stripes approach, much bigger than they seem form a car
You're heading back now, a different way than you came
But it doesn't really matter, it's all the same.
You're so thirsty you can taste dust in your mouth but
you are almost there.
You made it; you're exactly where you started
Maybe you'll do better tomorrow.