I'm suspended, briefly, in a sort of in between,
unknown grief and joy yet encountered,
while day disappears and the sound of rubber on road, engine revving then slowing, as diesel pumps furtively to compete with the anxious lead foot of our driver, the murmurs of the crew of expectant travelers, lulls my eyes into a dreary routine.
My eyes open and shut in languid denial of the soothing timbre of the road.
The road.
Respite.
You don't know this, but I keep falling asleep.
Written back in Feb.
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