Quiet Drive

I am too-far-travelled.

Pedaled-down, through glass

Pass roadsiders blown-tired.

Radio voices, interred,

become crackle and hiss;

familiar channels fading.

Along the exitless road,

U-turnless to you-

I am losing my stations.

Published in: on February 17, 2015 at 9:23 am  Leave a Comment  

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