The Off Ramp

The Off Ramp


I am standing on the off ramp
At Belleview and Highway eighty five
With tears in my eyes
Thankful that I am alive.
The wreckage that was our relationship
Long since move to the junkyard of the heart
I am not even sure if you remember who I am
Nor really give a damn
But I remember like to was yesterday.
This very spot is where we would talk
Underneath the florescent light
From dusk to dawn all through the night
As you would draw and I would write.
Feeding the juke box quarter after quarter
paycheck after paycheck
Drinking swill of coffee and smoking until we were choking
Watching the snow fall on our little town of Littleton.
Pondering what the future held.
And just how juxtaposition is spelled,
Unto our art we were compelled.
Years ago they tore down the joint
where we would hangout all hours of the day
Urban renewal taking our special spot away
Yet the memory still does replay.
I know you will never read this poem
Or hear me as I recite.
But I loved you then and could not find the words.

 

09/14/2017

Reviews

[Fabian G. Franklin]

"But I remember like to was yesterday." Perhaps like "it" was yesterday? And "Years ago the tore down the joint" perhaps "they" instead of the? Just a few small typos in an otherwise pleasing piece of art. I enjoyed the read and the sentimentality of the nostalgia it contained. Well done.