Pit stop

It was her turn to drive, we’d be at it for hours

the quiet hum of NPR on the radio in the

background, something about

whetting the whistle in modern times

sipping on that pop we picked up in Tallahassee just after

that dude asked us for directions.

I pulled a deck of cards out from the backseat

Grappling between suitcases and balancing my coffee

She told me i looked like a fool

Raising my glass on a sixty eight degree turn

Following the road of life.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Create a website or blog at WordPress.com

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: