Two F’er

– Two –

I was flying sideways in my car

along streets full of passers by

looking for tomorrow

and a day that will never come.

Past fields of wheat and flax I drove

past lines and furrows

along roads well traveled

where spiral masses lie in wait

for early spring

past the mystery of silence

so near, but yet

so far …

– F’er –

Within the rural sun

mornings arrive

and day is nearly done.

Sun and moon and in between

miles along the roads of time.

Too much distance

too little time to make

the world my own.

Too much time to never see

everything between

growing in the sun of



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