A Race To That Line

see me at the wheel

as words are searching for a tune 

I am staring at a toll line forming

at a distance not too far 

should have stopped paying years ago

flirting with the bottle

since the day you left

half full no more

swinging circles with my feet

searching for a familiar beat

even those who love the cold

never wish for it to stay

there is a trust 

in how you surround me

summer will not fail 

the way you look at me

finding sense one thing at a time

this chair and I

trying out words

that help me get to that line

this story is mine

but I will let you in

I only ask

that you hold the morning light

perfectly

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