It’s quiet. Too quiet. All to be heard is the far away sounds of traffic on the highway. Tires hitting wet pavement. The hum of a motorcycle. That is all.
Even the birds are silent. No chirping. They do not sing a song. Blue birds and cardinals fly from limb to limb. Why aren’t they talking?
And, there is not a soul in sight. This old gravel road is never used, but, by hobos, vagabonds, kids in the midnight hour crying for a kiss. Cars parked along the side of the road; windshields fogged up. The moon shines down on them.
Black squirrels run up trees. Pines, oaks, dogwoods, bushes and wild grown weeds dot the road. But,that silence. A haunted space. Who is watching?
If there were eyes staring at me, then what is it they see? Just a man traveling down a road in silence. And, that’s all I ever wanted.