.scarecrows Of Light Poem by Not Long Left

Upon the endless spine
of motorway they challenge
the black of night.
Those that burn
merge into the passing blur.
Those that flicker
attract the tired eye.
No city here to illuminate.

Outcasts you stand in the
concrete river of Roman invention.
Above the clouds are cut
the sky begins to bleed;
Reveals a hundred miles
a bright endless blur
lost in the haze of speed.
Scarecrows of light
together we go
into the speeding night.