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.
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.
posted by Corey at 8:18 PM
3 Comments:
Hang on. You'll find the beauty of this place too...
Some beautiful lines in this post Mr.Corey.
I was very happy to see a new blog post from you!
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.
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