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jamie-cohenPoems
I like driving at night indigo nights in the odd hours of the morning my tired eyes adjust to the rhythm of the traffic a slow fluid, tempo, melting into soft orange lights cars slip in and out of my consciousness the street illuminated in artificial glows and manufactured air fills my lungs forming goosebumps on my skin my eyes are growing weary the radio static, constant tuned to 91.3 plays liquid jazz dewdrops on my weary mind and my pulse fills the empty spaces in the bassline the music melts into the rhythm the soft lull of the engine humming the crescendo and decrescendo of tires on pavement a lullaby the reflectors twinkle on street like artificial stars and the highway-- a tangle of progress unravels before me my eyes slip into a dream I like driving at night but one day I won't
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Dec 2, 2012
Dec 2, 2012 at 9:14 AM UTC
nightdriving
I like driving at night indigo nights in the odd hours of the morning my tired eyes adjust to the rhythm of the traffic a slow fluid, tempo, melting into soft orange lights cars slip in and out of my consciousness the street illuminated in artificial glows and manufactured air fills my lungs forming goosebumps on my skin my eyes are growing weary the radio static, constant tuned to 91.3 plays liquid jazz dewdrops on my weary mind and my pulse fills the empty spaces in the bassline the music melts into the rhythm the soft lull of the engine humming the crescendo and decrescendo of tires on pavement a lullaby the reflectors twinkle on street like artificial stars and the highway-- a tangle of progress unravels before me my eyes slip into a dream I like driving at night but one day I won't
jamie-cohen
Written by
jamie-cohen
American
Dec 2, 2012
Dec 2, 2012 at 9:14 AM UTC
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