The move.
Passing forgiven treessustained by the blades
that stab the countryside.
Poison horizon
pink from the blushing sun,
the road a prism,
wielding that silver gun.
Turn the car around,
we've forgotten the familiar
sights and sounds,
catching flight
of Magpies that surround.
Caramel lights spit at us,
Faster and faster they pass,
Coiled,
Leaving the money we spoilt
behind our new soil.
But find us,
Wherever we'll be.
Poetry by John Ashleigh
Read 989 times
Written on 2011-03-03 at 00:23
Tags Change  Life 
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by John Ashleigh Latest textsDesignDylan. In between love. Transcend. Fingertips. My favoritesNightlightPhoenix Seulement One Week from Tomorrow. Betrayed |
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