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anthony-b-peralesPoems
We drove fast, the way only the young can do. Recklessly and carefree while wildly tripping across that broken highway. I heard the echo of our hollow laughter, felt the vibration all through my open mind. My mouth remained dry no matter how much Orange juice I drank. Along the edge of the world the untamed field of sage bush and honey suckle swayed like dancing girls in unison to the warm California wind. We sat and watched in silence as the Palm fronds danced in ballgowns through the grand wood pane windows of a mansion across the canyon. I seen hand trails that never ended, 12 packs boxes that hopped away like jack rabbits. A Coyote on Paseo whose only want was to live. White owls crashing through ancient Oaks just to let us know we weren't all there was. I've captured the image in memory of a dozen smiling faces of my still free minded friends of my youth. All seeing things the way they were meant to be seen. All seeing things the way we'd never see them again.
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Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 10:04 PM UTC
Dosed In The Days Of My Youth
We drove fast, the way only the young can do. Recklessly and carefree while wildly tripping across that broken highway. I heard the echo of our hollow laughter, felt the vibration all through my open mind. My mouth remained dry no matter how much Orange juice I drank. Along the edge of the world the untamed field of sage bush and honey suckle swayed like dancing girls in unison to the warm California wind. We sat and watched in silence as the Palm fronds danced in ballgowns through the grand wood pane windows of a mansion across the canyon. I seen hand trails that never ended, 12 packs boxes that hopped away like jack rabbits. A Coyote on Paseo whose only want was to live. White owls crashing through ancient Oaks just to let us know we weren't all there was. I've captured the image in memory of a dozen smiling faces of my still free minded friends of my youth. All seeing things the way they were meant to be seen. All seeing things the way we'd never see them again.
For          Ian P. Smith          1973-1994 Rest Easy Old Friend
anthony-b-perales
Written by
anthony-b-perales
American
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 10:04 PM UTC
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