Stopover – 14/7/17

The sound, the rolling tide of traffic fills
Shifting, humming, breathing stills,
Slashed gold on crumpled brick,
The asphalt’s faded, decades quick.
No rain, just greetings falling on the road,
Signs rust bright, the awning’s bowed.
This time capsule bubble, pocket nook,
Forever and ever with same blank look.
An afternoon in a small town. 

2 thoughts on “Stopover – 14/7/17

  1. Greetings falling on the road / same blank look – these lines really jumped out at me because they paint a picture of drab colors. I see watery grey and dull shades of brown. Nice bit of writing here, my friend 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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