Highway in Autumn

When it came it came suddenly, and short—
something lonesome and deep,
calling to him from deep in his heart,
something involving highways and a few autumn leaves.

He wanted to transport to those places of distance.
Wine gave the illusion of that.
Rain on a windowsill did, too.
But always he woke on the same couch wearing the same shoes.

If only he could stay there, outside the window,
chilly autumn clouds, walking that highway with his arms
wrapped in self-embrace, a few notes of music lilting in the air,
coming from somewhere—


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