Freeway Rainstorm

Hungry ghosts leer;
Eyes that blind and
Hidden iron hearts
In cold steam bodies.

Opaque, the air;
Unseen the line
That bound them
That kept me safe.

The world is water;
Outside the deluge
Stealthy fog within
No air can clear.

Even I stream, sweat;
Wiretight small
On my juddering wheel
Only my mouth is dry.

B.T. Murtagh

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~ by B.T. Murtagh on July 6, 2008.

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