Markers

I leave a trail
I follow one

I leave a mark
I seek one

I know my place
Where I am
Where I’ve been
Where I’m going
By the markers

Signs and symbols
As simple as a bread crumb
As plain as a stop sign
As complex as a moment in time
Long forgotten
But for a remnant
Left behind

I was never here
When here was somewhere
But the marker
Invokes an image
A collective memory
A heyday

So I transport myself
To a busy cafe
Parking lot filled
With buxom, brazen autos
Fedoras, white shirts and ties
High heels and crinoline
Lipstick and hairspray
Cigarettes and Coca-Cola
Meat and potatoes
Coffee and pie

Until the image fades
Leaving only a derelict marker
An empty parking lot
A decrepit building

And my smiling face

Markers
Can be
Magic