driving the
back roads
tires on
gravel
crackling
of pebbles
under
the wheels
an
occasional car
from the
other direction
we wave
to each other
it’s an unwritten rule
no one’s
in a hurry
or they’d
be on the main roads
windows
rolled down
dog’s
ears flapping in the breeze
we keep on driving
through
the dusty wake
until
there’s nothing but clean air
and the
crackling of pebbles
from
tires on gravel
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