Some people seemed to get all sunshine, and some all shadow…”
―
The cars are a river that wake with me
Silver and silent, going nowhere
The planes are up at 6 am, but their song isn’t pretty
Instead they sear the sky and hit the birds,
blood and feathers in the wings
The lights come on
but they aren’t the sun or the bright moon
They are green and harsh
Sometimes they are red
and pavlovian
