The moment when I first heard the noise

when the sound first

swirling around me

filled me

leaving nothing else


Within the ebb and flow

the quiet and the noise

tin ears

cupped to the wind

we cannot hear because

the road rise and

falls ebbs and flows the noise lifting from the ground

swirling around

I see the eyes

see the lost moment

the memories

hidden there

in plain sight. Will I

be free of the noise

the road

always there

pushing and pulling

around and between


and nowhere.

Will I be ever free?


Sandler Boggs

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