Commute
High beams
really bring out your gypsy moth rings,
sweet maple trees
you line this road
and I wonder if you remember me
at eighteen, barefoot
the hot, glassy asphalt
punishing
I pushed
on through the public recreation area
a sight
for safe eyes
mothers, children, fathers.
I wasn't safe
still you watched
solemn, indifferent
and I wouldn't have it any other way
no, we needed it
my feet, and me
we
kissed the black ring
scarring your bark
old and tough and
free.
really bring out your gypsy moth rings,
sweet maple trees
you line this road
and I wonder if you remember me
at eighteen, barefoot
the hot, glassy asphalt
punishing
I pushed
on through the public recreation area
a sight
for safe eyes
mothers, children, fathers.
I wasn't safe
still you watched
solemn, indifferent
and I wouldn't have it any other way
no, we needed it
my feet, and me
we
kissed the black ring
scarring your bark
old and tough and
free.
posted by Black Egg at 9:50 PM
5 Comments:
omg!You rock Claire!
Really.
thanx for writing like you do.
It's kinda humbling for me-lol
sweet dreams
and shooting stars
and lightning
Is it cool with you if I read this on air next Friday?I'll simply say that someone I know wrote it, and I won't mention yr name.
i agree! you rock, excellent! loved it...
I also love this! Very evocative. Funny, I just wrote a poem that has the word asphalt in it....
Gosh, thanx all. Glad you enjoyed it. J- sure, go ahead and read it if you want - but, yah, no name attached.
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