A Religious Easter Weekend

On my back

drifting across the black sea

hand occasioning to dip and caress

the warm and inviting asphalt.

Knuckles bounce joyously inside fingerless gloves

as they stretch and interlace

the wheels beneath me creak and groan

but peacefully as they can.

Billy Collins words drift through my headset.

 

From far off, someone’s Black & Mild scent drifts into my breathing.

I am not offended, nor am I by the sounds of close cars that wash over me.

I am content with the world carrying on,

so long as I may have

this patch of tar

for myself.

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About justsomecollegekid

Specifically anonymous, sorry if that is a bit off, but I do it so that I can get feedback as though my writing were completely removed from myself. As such, I would love to hear your feedback, good or bad. Many Thanks. View all posts by justsomecollegekid

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