Concrete Gaps

The grass across the way,

not even brown anymore,

but a kind of brittle yellow,

like old paper.

It crunches when the wind shifts.

And the concrete

along the curb,

where it usually meets the soil,

it's pulled back.

A thin, dark line,

a gap, really,

like a mouth that’s forgotten

how to close.

Just waiting for something

to fill it, I guess.

Or not.