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Poetry: Road trip

by Smithie

Created on: June 19, 2009

ROAD TRIP

Last goodbyes and lost time.

Flying down the road.

Looking for days but finding only spaces.

Vacant where things used to be.

The road was supposed to be empty

And it is.

But the wind is here and the sun.

And every so often a person to smoke with

Or drink coffee with

Or whatever.

Those moments craft a new place.

But the road is always there.

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