tridaze

thirty-foot pillars of concrete I, loitering at their feet grass scratches at my knees begging to grow roots into me. chewing on a helpless pencap a bird flies by, staring and I have to wonder why occasionally two things meet and you know something is then complete, purpose and opportunity greet. a sharp curb waterfalls above the gutter I watch the oilwater rain take it's course into the vast ocean of Earth's beauty reminded to follow my own only I want to make it to the finish unpolluted.