Charles Weber

I lay there
in the Wal-Mart parking lot,
the abandoned Wal-Mart
next to church,
making angels
on the asphalt.

Peering into the blue,
I wondered
how far I would fall
if gravity failed.

I heard the train coming.
Not Johnny Cash´s train.
Just the train loaded with trees,
scalped clean
for the flooring mill.

When the train passed,
I saw the man
who yelled in church earlier,
standing there,
looking down at the tracks,

and wondered
if he thought about gravity.