There’s a spot on the interstate
Between Denver and way out here
Where not a single vestige
Of man exists
Not a fencepost, phone pole, haystack
I get an awful  chill there
I feel so utterly alone
Forgotten, hollow.
ridiculously claustrophobic 
In my blue jet.
I’m grateful to see the 
Grain bins emerging 
On the horizon.

Rachelli says that spot
Brings her the most hope
She sighs there every week
For a moment
Lost in an ancient time


tell me what you think. There's a spot for your name and email, but it isn't necessary when posting a comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s