Driftwood
March 25, 2025
Photo © copyright by Nathan Larson.
Driftwood
Staccato of the pizza shop gas pump,
filling my tank with miles unlived.
Pepperoni ghosts and diesel hang in
fluorescent colored light.
Carol murmurs weather to William,
their dialogue a threadbare hem.
I drift through aisles preserved,
waiting for a polite moment to pay.
The ocean looms a mile away,
slate-gray and indifferent,
too vast for compassion,
its horizon an empty page.
Will it absorb my fragments
the way it claims trees,
grinding sharp edges smooth,
until I am only driftwood?
-nl
33/100