Thursday, August 01, 2013


It was the summer of The Big Sleep
and as I motored home one night
cruising at a modest seventy
a lightning bug went SPLAT
against my windshield
and it's fading neon glow
became a star I tried to follow
to a better place

A haven far from the
errant expectations
and dismal self doubts
that constantly gnaw away
at our shrinking spirits
like the greedy pincers
of a curious little bug

I knew that there would be
another funeral soon
and though I dreaded mourning
I thought about that
better place
and secretly hoped
that someone's dying light
could show me the way.


richard said...

all i've got to say is its August, and maybe, just maybe....i know this makes no sense, but no cents is what i'm best at, so.....

Anonymous said...

I think this is a lovely piece of writing.

rch said...

Hey Richard I'm hoping.

Hi Paul, hope all is well, thanks alot!