Have you ever walked down the mother road? 
That deserted two lanes of blacktop.
Nothing around but memories.
The weeds over run, breaking there way through the pavement.
The tumble weeds in the wind the only sign of movement.
I sat in the middle of that road, cracked and faded as she was I could feel the life emanating from her.
Surrounded by the saddness of the present and the simplicity of time past.
A simple road that meant so much yet tossed aside for something new, alittle time saved.
Now sits slowly being taken back by time like an old car rusting away in the field.
The neon that remains holds no light from time past.
The paint replaced with rust and dust.
The life that this road represented forgotten by most.
Before my time yet I sit here daydreaming of what once was, the stories I was told as a kid make my imagination scream with possibilities.
I would have loved to see you in your prime, the joy and comely you stood for, a simpler time.
And aged as you may be, I take joy in cruising you. 
For now I can only dream, but as long as we remember, you will remain.

By Matthew branton