By chris
Date: 2007 Oct 20
Comment on this Work
[[2007.10.20.22.48.6114]]

Like a Gram Parsons Song

We lived out our brief life
together,
it seems,
fighting in parking lots
lit by sodium and fireflies
and passing trucks
bound for desert places
in different time zones
and maybe,
at some point,
home
in a black and white city
or by green sea.

And when you at last turned
your back to me,
I was still close enough to
feel the breeze and smell
your hair,
scented with flowers
that grew nowhere
near here.