Widow's Walk

Widow’s Walk I saw a widow’s walk the other day Atop a white and green designer home. Why here amid the trees I couldn’t say Some miles away from where the seagulls roam. I thought they were for spying out the sails Of ships returning from a living sea. With riches rendered from too many whales, And those who always see themselves as free. A highway shouldn’t have the same allure. For those that choose to leave and travel there. But standing on the widow’s walk unsure If those long past had thoughts I now must share. Did asphalt waves call out the same to her Who left me standing here to just endure?