Driving In A Convertible On I-280 At 3am - Poem by Amanda Thomas
Hair whips around my face, repeatedly striking me in the eyes.
I think I'm being punished for enjoying this too much.
Inky black black black silhouettes of trees fly by in the corners of my eyes.
The music is so loud and we scream still, in love with this night
I turn around and stand up, hoping I'll be carried away
A better place, where this night doesn't end
Where these moments are remembered forever
'And in that moment, I swear we were infinite'.
Bunker Hill Road, almost home
I hope she slows down, I don't want this to end
I hope the car takes off into the stars,
I hope we can go back to the future
Highway 92 is ahead on the right. We turn.
I'm running on three Long Islands and Camel Lights
The music is turned down as we glide off the freeway
'Next Month', she says. I know I can't wait that long
One day we'll get it right.
Comments about Driving In A Convertible On I-280 At 3am by Amanda Thomas
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You