The poet must decide if bird cries are cries of ecstasy or cries of despair. - Lawrence Ferlinghetti
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One Lane Through Trees
Sometimes the road is silent,
trees lining its perimeter.
And I look in my rear view mirror,
for her,
for where tomorrow has gone,
but imagining she is here.
Sometimes the road is silent,
bringing forth only dust,
and this truck carries me on.
There is an abyss to life
we do not know,
comprehend,
nor understand.
And I have lost my reality...
EjG
