Posted in [poetry]

coming home [poem]

the asphalt speeds by
long stretches of straight nothingness
broken by small town America
and I find myself
a little more in each passing mile
each breath of unfamiliar air fills my lungs
with a lightness I call
coming home
the rain starts as I cross the state line
washing away the dust and grime
of everything I left behind
on those back roads
in Texas


bookdragon, poet, witch

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