matt-miller - Hello Poetry

matt-miller

American I'm not really a poet. I probably try too hard.

black highway fields closer drive state cars ghost trees pass days breeze walking shapes race round rocks body change roam road love scene county roads headlights pastures union valley empty fire town making stream autumn paths sit details june coming longer dream sunbeam raining gold perch meter leads mile sleep parked shake corner cold roots asphalt tithing sky overgrown realize going contours wet blinds main worth exchanged sound breathing downstream gray beat familiar crushed congregation hands tungsten disappointed transparent cool doohickeys stiff wooden anxiously cloudy tuned fiddle red car cringe wrote heavy set mental cruised chords tires crows sure static driveway fail hammer wander living velvet purple sun forty countryside settle poles hill sold dirty contrasting stagnation turning sestina nails faded free hundreds hours broken minor members flowering rises throw hills anticlimactic restlessness thingamajigs barns times practical fell place stand lonesome syria passing composed unison feel emptied kings message open