The Honeymooners Drive to California

by July 8, 2018 0 comments

Third day.
They’d made it
to a trestle bridge in Tennessee.
Watched a sunrise light the mountain fog
and had the musk of morning raise
a chill along their arms.

At a diner,
waiting for more summer,
a shift change waitress war
reminded them of stinging nettles
they’d stumbled into
eighteen hours east.

A day they prayed wouldn’t be an omen
as they moved out into another dawn.

editors note:

One odd occurrence need not indicate unfortunate eventualities… right? – mh clay

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