Writmore

D) Roadside invitation welcomes overnighters.
J) Sheep, heads down, draw blood from the pale ground.
D) Exit to Saginaw 100 feet. Just where are we anyway?
J) A trashfire to be. Weak shrie
of wind and roar of the road.
D) We flow through with the river of asphalt and steel toward misty hill horizon lines.
J)What reclaims it's space in us as we are stretched across the miles?
D) Drain, Elkton,Curtan,Lorraine. I don't
Think we are in Portland anymore.
J)the chenille of farmland and fences, treasures we thought we'd sold to survive roll out before us eternal


I
-- Post From My iPhone