(down this country road) Autumn drive.

The road weeps

& its mascara
sticks to the tires.

Mud’s greasy breath,
spluttered on the windshield,
oldens the fields and winding
road ahead to an early
nineteen seventy something


Shards of broken rock find
comfort and warmth
in my wheels’ tread.

The road,

I know, scatters them

so when comes time
to ride out again,

it can glean me

once more.













Photo :  Jean-Michel HATTON


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