Another passing visitor. My daughter left
a pair of sunglasses in the car. She is returning them.
Twenty miles across town on her lunch break.
Dressed in black cheerful to match the steering wheel leather,
a style for those on the go.
People visit here at 60 mph.
Just passing–a passing visit.
No knocking on the door.
Guidance not from above, but from
skinny, yellow, equidistant rectangles.
A dog in the bed of a truck barks his way by.
Just visiting. The wonderful moving flow,
strapped in for quick moving visits. There is hello honking.
There is happiness sallying up and down the road.
Hugging the broken line. Exhaustive singing, unending chorus.
Nothing looks good enough for slowing down.
When there is nowhere to go, just go.
Tom on This House smilecalm on This House Tom on Shadow smilecalm on Shadow Tom on Between
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