I drive beneath the overpass
the final sign 396
Lincoln fades into the clouds
the horizon envelopes me
the hills bow down to rise again
the trees grow dense, a final stand
enter in the open sky
where sea and stone and flesh are one
. . .
as the open windows roar
sixty five into the night
flying gravel, dust, sweat
I check that I’m still breathing
like the clouds ten miles deep
block the million year old light
stars unneeded shine in vain
I am silent in my song
Feb 13, 2018
Feb 13, 2018 at 10:07 PM UTC
I drive beneath the overpass
the final sign 396
Lincoln fades into the clouds
the horizon envelopes me
the hills bow down to rise again
the trees grow dense, a final stand
enter in the open sky
where sea and stone and flesh are one
. . .
as the open windows roar
sixty five into the night
flying gravel, dust, sweat
I check that I’m still breathing
like the clouds ten miles deep
block the million year old light
stars unneeded shine in vain
I am silent in my song
Request permission to use this poem