My tires hum and my ears fade away


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100 miles

200 miles

300 miles

away from home

in the silence that is the cocoon

you hear the echo’s of each passing mile

was I the last mile you were to drive today?

Am I the last mile?

In asking

hoping

seeking

but asking

am I the last mile

and no one knows.

The last mile

like the first mile

quiet

empty

marked only by a white lettered green post

that sticks out of the ground

wounding the ground

driven into the ground

a market

100 miles

a lament

from inside the quiet cocoon

can it truly be the last mile?

 

.doc

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