Asphalt rivers
stretch across the empty land
that, over time,
would swallow the tar hungrily
and leave not a single crumb
for the path-seeking wanderers

Tires roll mechanically today
over the demarcated black strips
like tumbleweed on desert soil,
but faster and more alien than any other.

But Tomorrow, the roads will disappear
and evaporate like wisps in the sky
or sink like anchors in the deep.
They will not wait for man's routines,
not will they speed up for his haste.

Crisp yellow dandelions
will surface through the cracks
as the asphalt rivers dissolve.
Though Man might lose his way,
Surely the dandelions will sway,
and the wind will guide him again.