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clear cold water so pure you wouldn’t even see it if the sun’s rays weren’t bent finding their way to the rocky bottom it’s like liquid air flowing over rocks through the chasms second after second minute after minute hour after hour day after day year after year you could dive into it and disappear if it wasn’t so cold
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greyhound graveyard
early morning grey sky train#1 The Canadian westward bound an hour past the Peg slowly, reverently we pass a field littered with buses windshields shattered their eyes poked out others resting on their sides like roadkill wheels in the air going nowhere young trees have rooted gaining the upper hand shooting branches through side windows red, white, and blue paint behind the leaves so this is the place where the greyhounds go to die I never knew |
AuthorI started my "Poem-A-Day" writing exercise back in 2010. It was a way to get into the habit of writing everyday. It took awhile but once I got into it I really enjoyed the process. I took a break in 2023 to work on getting "Carbon Copy" into the wild. I also wanted to re-read my poem-a-day scribblings to see if there were any unpolished gems amongst the rubble. My plan is to post one per week in my Blog. Find "Carbon Copy" at: Archives
September 2024
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