Rusted train tracks chug beneath our mud-crusted combat boots imprisoning browned socks and bruised, blistered feet patiently awaiting their release into thick air and sweltering sun, but we're too stubborn fighting unseen battles waging war against those waging war against us.
Swampy muck keeps us tied to the tracks. We veer as iron beams veer, resisting sharp turns or flat lengths that stretch straight out farther than we can fathom, but we remain bound to the path fastened to hot rolled steel, trying to forget the plight fought by those before us, building our own struggles out of muddy thicket surrounding us on all sides clamoring for our surrender.
Shackled we remain, slogging forward until stomach grumbling releases us back to our own yards.
Andrea Taylor is a Columbus, Ohio-based writer who's also lived in NYC and Charleston, SC. She has been published in 'The Blue Penny Quarterly' and 'Adalaide Literary Magazine' and has written freelance articles for the local Columbus magazine, '(614).' She recently completed her MFA at Lindenwood University.