Brookshire Freeway

1.
I see a man having fallen
directly into the center of
the water tower. His Chute
draped evenly over the white
sides, rust washed by the silk
falls to girders. The man sits
in darkness treading water.

2.
If I could count the shoes that sit
alone among the gravel and broken
glass, orphaned from their twin, then I
could not be counted among the lowly souls.

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2 thoughts on “Brookshire Freeway

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