Stranded

it was during the winter of that year, when the rain stopped
curiously.
although no one ever spoke about it
and yet, everyone knew
as the skies were bright red

little hints in the clouds above
and still, not a word 
not a whisper

that was the season when brown became blue
covering for green that died long ago,
in the back of a pick up truck bed
parked out by the shed

dosing out the recommended amounts for just the right hit
takes more than a few tries, if that
one has to focus and not get distracted
by bothersome things like emotions and such

the roads were underwater then
asphalt was unheard of in those parts
people walked barefoot
along side the train tracks

it's a wonder
no one got trampled
at midnight...