Only The Next Exit

The road is sometimes a hard black surface I meander down in the middle of a comfortable Georgia night after my truck, oh this truck, runs out of gas. This night patience is not worn thin. It's 2:30 a.m. and the road is quiet.

This is where i've been. On this lonely highway with the sound of crickets in my ear. Leaves, the verdant green of mid spring all around me, being lifted with a sigh by a slight breeze.

It's only a broke down old truck, it's only 2:30 in the morning, it's only 2 miles to the next gas station and I'm only trying to see the world with new eyes, to hear the sounds I normally speed by, to not grow too tired of life too soon.


Blogger wilsonian said...

Hang on. You'll find the beauty of this place too...

3:42 AM  
Blogger kelsey lee said...

Some beautiful lines in this post Mr.Corey.

I was very happy to see a new blog post from you!

7:55 PM  
Blogger Corey said...

Wilsonian, thanks, as always, for the encouragement. I am finding beauty in the least expected places.

Kelsey, good to know you still follow this crazy little blog. Words have been hard to come by these days, glad you found a few that pleased you.

8:14 PM  

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