Written for: The Twiglets #249 - "chewed up the road"
Slams into neglected
pot holes, chewing
up the road.
Some local roads are
chews inside of lip
on this balmy day in Spring
stares down empty road
A dangerous driver was she,
immortal at age twenty-three.
Ignored speed limit,
issued a ticket
She placed on pile of others who called out, "Newbie".
I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York.
My goal is to create and share poetry with others
who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve
in you, and feel your sparks as well.
Road pot holes were a horror in NJ… I suppose they are anywhere.
But ‘sink holes’ are really a fright. One happened in a local outlet parking lot – I’m not even sure if that has been fixed. Hubby had reason to go that way – and most of the store are empty. Result of the last years economics perhaps… a different type of ‘pot hole’ the eye sore of empty storefronts.
Those empty storefronts are so sad. We have many in my neighborhood, but new places are opening so maybe we have turned that corner.
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