5 o'clock tocks,
The pedals are starting blocks,
The road a runway,
To run away,
Nay, to fly away.
A fly-way
From the work day.
The rattle in the shift
From deskclerk to legwork.
Some rift from lurking,
A gift
To not be working.
Some cars startle
Me passing by.
I pass by
Passersby
Like they're on standby,
Asking why,
Marveling.
Glide by side streets
Downtown, upbeat.
Downhill slipstream.
Sunshine thrills me.
Back pack tucked back,
Straps of that rucksack
Flail like exhaust gas.
Dual mode smokestacks
like baby, baby, baby, oh,
5 o'clock,
heading home.
No comments:
Post a Comment