Less then
three hundred miles
and three years away,
but I can still feel
the sunlight
streaming in
from the fifth floor
window.
I can still see
the long
multi-laned streets
cluttered with cars,
trucks, and billboards.
I can still taste
the hot wings
dipped in ranch
that I ate for dinner,
and the small omelets
in cheese streaked
plastic wrap
along with
the gravy soaked
biscuits.
I can still feel
the cool blankets
that saw me safely
to sleep
after I would eat
the free breakfast.
I can still hear
the sound of
strangers
speaking in
muffled tones,
blocked by
thin walls.
I can even recall
the sound of rainfall,
and though I am
almost content
with this moment
in my life,
part of me
would like to see
that memory
in real time.
Oct 9, 2018
Oct 9, 2018 at 10:27 AM UTC
Less then
three hundred miles
and three years away,
but I can still feel
the sunlight
streaming in
from the fifth floor
window.
I can still see
the long
multi-laned streets
cluttered with cars,
trucks, and billboards.
I can still taste
the hot wings
dipped in ranch
that I ate for dinner,
and the small omelets
in cheese streaked
plastic wrap
along with
the gravy soaked
biscuits.
I can still feel
the cool blankets
that saw me safely
to sleep
after I would eat
the free breakfast.
I can still hear
the sound of
strangers
speaking in
muffled tones,
blocked by
thin walls.
I can even recall
the sound of rainfall,
and though I am
almost content
with this moment
in my life,
part of me
would like to see
that memory
in real time.
