True Story

[1ove]

I am routinely destroyed
By the New Jersey Turnpike at dawn:
A spiraling tumble of birds,
Each bright leaf, is a stab in the heart.
And I think: How can I go on?
The world so unlikely and vast
And shimmering, down to its cells:
I should fall to my knees, and be done.
But I pay my toll, and drive on.

Comments

[somechicksings]

this is breathtaking, H.

[1ove]

Aw! Thanks, Arjuna!

[filteredglass]

I love this so much. I re-read it a lot.