Filling up
at the sleepy little gas station
just outside of town

Sun goes down
Headlights spawn on the horizon
blinding streaks of white

Sounds of night
Crickets, owls, rain, cicadas
permeate the drive

We arrive
spilling out like wine and gossip
lost in our own thoughts

Sitting here
spiraling
contemplating
what-ifs

Mind is doing
front-flips
Heart a batch of
beat-skips

Whether this
happenstance
happens or it
doesn’t

I cannot be
content
living in the
moment

The kind of weather
when the windows
can be open

A little respite
from the stagnant
drone of moments

It’s alarming
that the summer’s
nearly over

But the trees will
hold their leaves a
little longer

Some days
are okay

Some are up
for debate

But today
was just

plain
great

You were there
looking for
someone
to call home

I was just
looking for
my next
witty poem