This Belonged to Someone

You stumble across one lying
On the walk, blown down like many
Are blown down by the threshing wind.

You curse, as anyone stumbling
Might curse in surprise, but you don’t
Really resent the obstacle.

It fascinates you. It’s too bad
There’s no one to tell about it,
To discuss it at the moment.

There it is, looking bruised, looking
Indistinguishable from all
Its fellows scattered by the wind,

Except that this one’s in your way,
Long, black line with nothing to say.