lullabies for the lost places
i find peace in places that have stopped trying.
in rusted bolts and boards that creak with no audience.
in empty lots where time folds itself like a quiet prayer.
abandoned things don’t ask me to smile.
they just let me sit.
let me breathe.
let me become undone without fear of breaking something beautiful.
i walk past the old ferry dock in Gretna
where ghosts of journeys whisper through the wind.
no timetables.
no engines.
just stillness and the soft hum of what used to be.
i let the stories of the past speak to me in lullabies.
nostalgic songs of what used to be
carved in the stillness of these places.
there’s a holy kind of hush
in places that were once loud.
like they’ve seen too much to pretend anymore.
i think i love them
because i too am a collection of used to be’s…
and being near them
feels like being understood
without a single word spoken.
