Alison

Broken rain clouds,
pink like her lips
full wet, and
blue sky with
tunes out the back of her pickup
in the wind and the rain clouds
are moving cross reasons to leave.
Turning ‘round, lookin' back
as the wind scares the birds
through the air like shed tears,
 
her foot on the throttle
leaves a long muddy trail.

poem by Rick Stokes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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