Apr 16, 2008


Ok, I've been slacking on the web browsing, and I'm too tired tonight to make up for the lack.  If you're reading this, sorry, but you'll just have to settle for something resembling a poem.


The crack in the slate blue sky 
promises mountains 
somewhere past the hi-way, 
where blacktop 
becomes topsoil, 
and the guard rails 
are green, soft, and sometimes make you itch. 

Where some go on vacation; 
empty the city, and walk cool oxygen trails 
rich with time's somnolence, 
and stare up into the branches 
looking for cracks of blue sky 
to slide into.

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