Pony Express

I wish I was an Iceland gull
soaring over stormy seas

I’d act like I belonged there

there like tiny purple flowers
in green grass, sparks & eruptions

where killdeer poke along
a summer road

twisting down the mountains
ran a river road

we knew it so well
knew it wouldn’t end

but we’re clocks
& we cannot tell the time

James Brush

James Brush is a teacher and writer who lives in Austin, TX. He tries to get outside as much as possible.

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