Mile Markers Poem by Gavin Robinson
Mile Markers
The wind whistles and the trees run from me.
Only a small space between them to see the setting Sun.
I smile as I rest my head on the pollen covered window.
Maybe, I'll dream of you before we make it home.
Thursday, February 15, 2024
Topic(s) of this poem: dream,home,smile,sun,wind
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8/28/2026 1:24:28 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
