It's late now

It's late now, and the light shines on only the BPR (Boston Post Road)
cloudy & dreary all around except for that soft yellow strip of light
the magical salt marshes are slipping into Rip van Winkle sleep
once brightly colored leaves that hung so gloriously in high trees,
are now lain on the forest floor dull, cloudy and muddled.
Absent is their light
the trees that once held them, are see through and turning bare

but that light, that thin soft yellow strip of light,
shines on the Old Boston Post Road
her journey taking travelers North to South

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