The last stop at the end of the road

where the asphalt disappears into the forest

as it climbs to the top of Sunshine Ridge

People don’t move on from here as

much as they die or their trailers burn

to ashes amid the piles of junk and trash

Life is not easy for those who have

so little to lose but a car that runs and

a roof over them until those too are gone

Rackety trucks peel down the road

on the way to town or at least out

of here, back and forth, sometimes hourly

fueled by a drug commerce or

odd jobs here and there sustaining

dogs who don’t know enough to move

out of the road and kids who know

more than they should about how

life leaves most of them behind