.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
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.
No comments:
Post a Comment