Ancient sunshine:
Earth’s bio memories, buried light.
The veins tapped for
pumping power, controlling fate.
Plastic freedom
fills the molds of our unfulfilled
secondhand hearts
cracked as dashboards under strict sun.
Warn number ones
of later years, prizes of the past.
Quickly ousted
for freshly transmogrified rays.
“Plastic freedom
fills the molds of our unfulfilled
secondhand hearts
cracked as dashboards under strict sun.”
-My favorite part.
BTW: More poetry, please!
Comment by Hanna Brown — August 10, 2010 @ 7:42 pm