He trucked right down route 270
Past the mass commuters with their suits and ties.
Forward bound with his head all filled up with her.
Breaks faltering, feet shaking loose.
That’s when he decide to take her away;
take her off his mind.
There wasn’t any sign
when she vanished.
There wasn’t any evidence to any degree.
Lost breaks, lost mind;
divided across an
Incongruent divorce.
Where goes the dawn?
When the remains slip off the shelf?
A safely devised code transverses
in the hum of wings.
Elegant, smooth, renascence.
© Sonja J. Johnston 18-Feb-2014
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