Right turns.


Adrift now, the shore is gone. And sure enough, the signs were wrong. A steering wheel to rest the weary head in this steel trap, a prison bed. Lay down and stay a while. The sea will sing us all to sleep. A hush and a cry, its melody will carry us beneath a blanket of waves. That bridge could never take us to where we wanted our lives to go, anyway.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *