Wednesday, March 7, 2012

trees whiz


the hum of the engine
drive-train turning tires
rubber meeting road
turning spinning
gravel flies grabbing gripping thrusting forward
home disappearing in the rear-view mirror
objects are further than they appear
time speeding by
life is a blur
a blurring of yellow lines
endless into the horizon
horizon, never reaching
heaven reaching down
the earth rises up to meet
the trees in between
trees whiz past
each one a magical conduit between earth and sky
each one a work of art greater than any have wrought
sailing past
falling victim to roads of indifference
d.s.

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