push on towards home

sometimes we drive
in old cars
across bridges
under the stars

up the coast or
down the coast
breathe deep
a long exhale
a 1000 sparkling afternoons 
spilled from the belly of the beast
nothing to show 
but sun burned skin
and tired muscle

the sound of an old corvette
deep throaty
wet with un-burnt gas and carbon monoxide

the stop light changes
the river of time flows
we push on towards home


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