No moonlight glistening on the car seats, it's
dark broken by bright headlights along the
loneliest of roads.
My foot alive on the accelerator, the road fills
my eyes, the heater on. Cold seeps in. Thanks
for heated seats.
No sounds echo in my ears other than the
engine's roar. I half dream with an automatic
focus from knowing this highway and the
emptiness of the towns.
Finally, I pull into a familiar yard.
She's waiting there to take me to her
bed. I'll call my wife tomorrow.
-
Author:
JDB (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 1st, 2025 19:04
- Comment from author about the poem: About those who feel the wrong sort of entitlement.
- Category: Sociopolitical
- Views: 12
Offline)
Comments1
A great poem with that superb twist at the end that gives new meaning. Its that sharp unexpected turn in the road that raises the excitement
Thank you for your kind words.
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