a map of the back roads

i found it in the sunday afternoon half-dusk, secured under a can full of rusty water,
which sat upon a white bookcase, outdoors under a sagging carport,
attached to a lonely house, up a hill from a dark road,
over the ridge from a looming water tower,
deep in a dense forest,
on the edge of a silent clearing,
where yellow-eyed wolves have chased me through childhood midnights.