Gumboots stand alone on the old front porch
A cloud of sourdough dust coating their weathered surface
Periwinkles twinkle from beneath the stairs
Shining like needles of a favored pine tree

They spread across the old front yard
Reaching and stretching to the ancient storefront
The sun’s hot rays beat down on their heads
Rising like skyscraper’s above the ledge

His old gnarled hand hung down where he lay
Cozily content wearing his retirement hat
Still his hand wandered over to lightly stroke
The badge still worn on his Forest Ranger coat