#551351 added November 24, 2007 at 7:26pm Restrictions: None
Aer Greyhound somewhere over Washington
It was beautiful last night coming into Missoula from Idaho. The full moon cast black shadows of the pine on the glistening fields of snow. Magical. Aer Greyhound somewhere over Washington
My tongue wags.
In this landscape of shorn wheat
my clack of teeth make the only sound,
this bus the only movement.
Lips move around the syllables
and sentences for hours.
Ephrata becomes nowhere, becomes
nothingness.
No birds, no trees, no need
to stop.
Wheels troll down a two lane highway.
My tongue rolls and never stops.
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