turnpike
clouds cover me in layers
concentric spheres at slower speeds
matters of altitudes and densities
your life is as difficult as mine
passing a truck on the pennsylvania turnpike
channeled between jersey barriers and
shrieking hubs two hands on the wheel
her warmth returns against my chest
nothing feels so good to skin
as skin the touch of generations
the consolations of continuance
i may have missed my exit
copyright 2010 J. O'Brien, all rights reserved
