Saturday, August 7, 2010



clouds look like they're on interlude.

we could reach up and pull each one apart

like it was cotton candy. each particle separating from itself

but not wanting to let go. stretching and tearing.

they move across the sky,

following the bus like

an old ship, fierce and majestic. their shadows hit

the rocky fields and

mountains acting as spilled paint causing

anyone to feel small.

and as the bus turns into wagon hound rest stop,

i wonder when i'll be home.

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