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Around the Next Turn
The sun my awakening
a strip of asphalt shimmers
off somewhere in Nebraska
hundreds of miles from home.
Sandhills seen for the first time
I look at them with eyes of a child
but my body aches
as life springs forth
from underground streams.
Center lines are being painted
an arduous day of work promised
it always arrives too soon
but serene skies stretch to endless horizons.
My co-workers and I follow each other
to the meeting spot miles out of town
where we’ll ready ourselves for the assignment--
we’ve come from different stages in life,
I see a bison farm in the middle of nowhere
and must tell others about what I’ve seen
to the sound of nothingness at the spot we meet
and wispy clouds drift across the sky
such wonder shared, I feel it must be a story or poem.
At the end of the week, we say good-bye,
Copyright ©
Mike Bayles
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