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harlon rivers Nov 2017
No one passes through here ever stays for long
i can't even seem to catch sight of my own road home
The body hanging at the end of my own line i don't recognize
waiting for a change  ―  that never comes around

Fleeting through the primrose path crossroads in a blur,...
right now i'm standin' here like a brainless scarecrow all alone
Just another familiar frost heave pothole barely shunt
swerved around like an unmarked bump
on this frozen lonesome road

i let you see it and you told me what it was ,..
but the rear-view mirror only reflects the tracks left behind
Looking for the Black Box to unearth the cause of the crash
somewhere underneath a black and white rainbow i can't find

If you see a wayfaring stranger that abides undone
don't even stop to feel the ache that trickles down
Just hit the gas and hold sway the wheels go round,
look off---- the dead raccoon lay sullied at the side of the road

No one passes through here ever stays for long
i can't even seem to catch sight of my own road home
The body hanging at the end of my own line i don't recognize
waiting for a change  ―  that never comes
and yet life unfolds as it is intended
a life well lived ― every bump is felt,
it's a long road we've been traveling on
with twists and turns,  switchbacks and potholes
tough times change, undo,
     melt down ―
••• redux •••

written by: h.a. rivers ... 11 .13 .2017
writing happens ―

— The End —