… just a stretch

It’s just a stretch of road, whereon
They sat in silence as they drove,
Detaching all their dreams
To place on others

A snowy bit of wide expanse,
A blank and empty canvas, where
Each painted, with their thoughts,
A different pairing

Through Colorado, long and cold,
Hostility in tacitness,
Imaginations running free
And wild

How simple all of it could be,
So perfect in simplicity,
It is right there, in reach, it’s
Just a stretch

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure. View all posts by Beleaguered Servant