Saturday, January 17, 2015

Poem #6

On I-5 South of Seattle

The water rose off the road
As if it were a river
Evaporating in noonday sun
Instead of rain off patterned rubber
Each vehicle shrouded in mist
Color, size, model obliterated
By fog, steam, movement
Each of us a swift cloud
Scudding along a black top sky
Gathering and separating
Hurrying to some meterological home

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