There are places in the city that are forgotten. They are passed by. Once, they were fortresses of pride and now they are empty shells. These places in the city are bastions, a haven for the weary city-dweller, busy always with the burning of time for nothing.

Be that as it may in these places one can disappear, taking a break from the endless reaching and taking. The tired dweller can take a break among the lost causes and arrogance.

I like to walk my dogs in these places. They run joyfully through the overgrown acres and through the trees and bushes once pruned and now growing freely. they pay no heed to the cement structures sitting silently among the unnatural forest.

These places are my favorite places in the city. they, in their failure, are a success. They are a peaceful bastion and I search them out. They are my secret out in the open. they are my own paradise in the endless succession of more, and more and more.

Looking for answers among a myriad of possibilities is asking questions that cannot be answered. Perhaps I’ll find answers in these forlorn places? Maybe you will too?