Southbound Poem by Dermot McGarthy
Southbound
The high ceiling of blue laughs down on us,
On our retreat from the frozen landscape.
The cell door lies closed behind.
We are fugitives now,
Forever hopeful, of lush and temperate
terrain ahead.
The light drives us on,
Each heartbeat-riding shotgun for the other,
Through twisting turning roads,
Of soft spoken words and secrets shared,
As He guides us forever closer.
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4/28/2024 12:52:41 AM # 1.0.0.1119
