The Sign With No Name

On 55, a few miles east of Seneca Rocks, just past the Native American Relic Museum & Restaurant, is the sign with no name, plain, a beat tin oval hovering between two poles, red and rusting. 

Someday, when the way of my life loses its wind and the shadow of the mountain is all I climb, you will see me standing here beside the road, my legs spread wide, my arms outstretched, wrapped around the blankness, advertising nothing.

Journal entry – 11/22/98


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.