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Jul 2018
Spinning my wheels
on a long drive
next mile mark
next town
next valley
or bug splattered
windshield horizon
on my mind

Grass and trees
pass in a sleepy haze
until the thump-thump
of a pothole jars
half lidded eyes
open wide

Ahead I see
the red smear
of mangled flesh

The crow flies
just in time
as this steel
four wheel
predator bears down
on his meal

I veer left
straddle death
tires singing hymns
to the highway
Written by
Brian Rihlmann  44/M/Nevada
(44/M/Nevada)   
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