Faded Boundary

The field was just tall grass now,

some weeds pushing up through the hard dirt.

But then the sun caught it, just so,

a ghost of a curve.

A white line, almost gone,

a faint scar on the green,

where kids once ran,

committed to a border

they believed in.

I drove past, slowing,

my own invisible lines

pulling at the wheel.

Still avoiding the middle,

still hugging the edge of what was.