Hypnotized by wheels rumbling all through the night
Outside my car, North Texas, transformed, a foggy ocean—
deep, impenetrable, broken by ghosts of signs that manifest mysterious—
and vanish
Punk rock radio, blaring sonic wind, pushes outward—
a star core against the pressure of the fog—
infinite silence
Worlds unseen beyond the mist lead into other destinies: farm and field,
town and school; fast food off ramp and neon light—
Wichita Falls
I accelerate, but I am not moving
©2003
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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