There's Always Another Page

How is it that if one walks far enough in the woods
one eventually comes across the rusted frame
of an abandoned car?
—Andrew

While driving on back roads I've seen abandoned refrigerators covered with vines, trucks without tires, tires without trucks, and washing machines leaning into one another.

I've seen farms left unattended— released to the weather.
Tools deserted and left to rust.
Splayed fences keeping nothing in or out.

Lives don't end when something's been laid aside.

Dreams cast-off leave reminders.

Ted Kooser ends his poem "Abandoned Farmhouse" —
... Something went wrong, they say.