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A Sign the Size of a Jeep
by Michelle Faulkner



For five days now, it has sat

Black and gray, reflecting heat

Actually, a very nice Jeep

With expired tags, rumpled bookbags

Yet nobody has moved it from my house

For five days now


As I surmise, with my poet's eyes

Journeys of flattened grass, of dusty glass

A map discarded; a gypsy started

A young soul seeking adventure's answers

To grow into a future of unlined space

Or older hearts, chasing the chase

The remembered rush of chances to take

As a new wind erases

The years from their faces


Perhaps a journal, sketching a desert dawn

Or moon rippled seas, or fragrant rain

Calling them forward to green spun lanes

Oh, there could be hours to ride

Mountains to taste, moments to cry


(Dear Muse, have you been so obscure

that I needed a sign, the size of a Jeep, blocking my front door?)


Now I, shaken at last from lethargy

To pick up my pen, should perhaps thank them~

Before I have their car towed.



a line, (a blue one)


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