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Sleeping to the sound of the truck's motion vibrating my eight year old arms,
I dreamt of skyscrapers peppering mountains like trees.
A current of cars rushing on highway rivers,
The undertow of black rubber skid tracks.
I dreamt of cities at night looking like pearls,
threaded by bridges to wear around my neck.

And then suddenly opening my eyes,
the way children can sense when they're home;
I woke up to blazing orange lights against blackness and pine trees,
looking like the fires of coal-powered engines, of cigarette thoughts.
The logging yard lit up like sunlight through stained glass church windows
or a desert oasis.
These trucks being loaded and unloaded were endless,
This has always existed, I thought to myself,
This will always exist.

Ten years later, I can see those lights from my backyard
with logging trucks going east and west
and I am eight years old again thinking,
This is how God must feel.
i won't explain.
Add a Comment:
forbiddensnowflake Featured By Owner Jul 30, 2006
You've really grown as a writer I believe. The only suggestion I'd like to make is to maybe change 'This had always existed' to 'This has always existed'. I just find it to make more sense. The rest I love, especially your choice of words that helped to create some very vivid images for me. I like reflective poems.
seanna Featured By Owner Aug 4, 2006  Hobbyist Writer
thanks for the feedback, you're right, 'has' makes more sense
Vesiculae Featured By Owner Jul 29, 2006
Un. Fucking. Believable.
seanna Featured By Owner Jul 29, 2006  Hobbyist Writer
thank you
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Submitted on
July 27, 2006
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