Sunday, February 1, 2015

a wet drive

along Miller street,
He presses the Gas pedal
and snakes his way to Perkins road,
beads of rain drops
block our window,
darkness force down
lowering our confidence
i feel like a jailed tiger,
short in breath,
not falling into s bottomless black-hole,
yet grasping for air.
the abacus of our walking path
the winding input of a faith,
once we are on Western,
we are close to 19th, August, 21st, Celia, and 
home then.


spring flower


This past week, we participated Thursday poetry rally week 79 for fun,
glad to be honored with a tag, the perfect poet award, which is an encouragement
hopefully, i wish i would not discourage anyone, but still, I wish to pass this honor to
another blogging poet,  Few Miles  and 
Rod E. Kok
keep it up. poets.




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