Ross Liskov, 10/12

wish

it’s good
to look
at the leaves
in the wind

when the sunlight
falls on
the flowers
the world
doesn’t seem
so broken

and humanity
seems like
a bad story
in a book I’ve put away.

.

.
somewhere

hot summer night
and the gift
of loneliness

the streetlights
are the eyes
of Gods looking down

the Gods always know
everything

I see the headlights
of the truck
before it rushes by
like a whale

the trucker
has a deadline
a place he’s gotta be

there’s nowhere
I have to be

just wandering
the night
with the sleeping cars
and light from
scattered windows.

Promote. Poetry.
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