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.
