©2022 Michael Raven
drive on drive on into needle pierce sleet those spinning spokes snow smeg and street slush hushing her name icepicks my head chisels away the floes everything greenice leaving that hollow i hold when wind blows over my tombstone drive on, she said and so we drove
Nice–
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks!
LikeLike
Beautiful imagery. This one also sounds very melodic.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m getting “lyrical” again. I go through phases.
Thanks 🥰
LikeLiked by 1 person