Poems from thegraveyardrunner
There I am.
Rain pouring.
Dusk is upon the horizon.
Standing still, breathing. Just Breathing.
I look up at the Marble Statue of Christ....
Footprints in the sand vanish from under the howling winds of the great mosaic.
The Mojave lends all but safe passage. mountains rise...
Being the First.
I remember the long summer nights the most.
The sweet scent of Juniper floating among the breeze.
The croaks of...
8pm and orange setting suns. the soft spring nights resemble what is to come.
The track smells of melted plastic with lines of deep blue...
We are the poor kids. The outcasts.
From the unknowns of the Country in the Unknown of the Country.
And yet we are known.
We are that...