[Poem a Day] “Slept Through The First Leg”

Check out today’s post on Instagram.

There’s something humbling about taking weird detours off the highway when you’re on a long road trip. If you don’t, too often the trip sort of melds into one long stretch of a singular direction – you may have been passing the same vertical line of trees for three hours and you’d be none the wiser.

But occasionally, when you follow your GPS’s well-meaning advice and cut away from gridlock into some local suburban throughway, you might find yourself seeing the same beats, the same little things that made your hometown a town in other places. The same little charms, just without any of the personal connection that made your home what it is. But you’ve got to figure they evoke the same feelings – the same stirrings in whoever bothers to pick up a pen in this town.

You’re just passing through, though. You don’t really stick around long enough to find out.

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