Posted in Poetry

could be missing me

she took exit 183

where the road appears

to stretch farther

seems longer and then

found out

he had left early morning

after a restful night

of chirping crickets

and a moon serenade,

waiting for her at exit 182.


this heart exits

at love-broken

your mind stops

at soft-spoken

our life resists

tokens of

could be’s and missing me.

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