Amanda Thomas

Rookie (1984-2005 / California)

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.

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, October 18, 2005

Poem Edited: Tuesday, October 18, 2005


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