Eight Cylinder Wings (Ethere) Poem by Linda Marie Van Tassell
Eight Cylinder Wings (Ethere)
You
bent down,
leaned into
the car and kissed
my trembling lips.
'Just in case you had doubts, '
you said; and I couldn't breathe.
I watched you walk back to your car,
a gray bird with eight cylinder wings;
and I revved up my engine to follow.
Monday, April 21, 2008
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4/19/2024 2:06:04 AM # 1.0.0.1119
