i stand in an asphalt river
and a chill knocks on my heart
as it cascades down the empty street

i eye my dad
as he takes photos
of the skeletons
resting on the grass

my hands are stuffed
in my overly fluorescent
striped jacket,
refusing
to feel the cold

i breathe out smoke

my pupils drift to the rusty shells; their tyres,
and their lack of number plates

the duo rests there together;
tethered to the turf,
bounded by the night,
and the endless winter wind

i wonder if they are past lovers;
entwined forever,
and forgotten to every eye but us
- or if they have a past at all.