The Black Ribbon

The Black Ribbon

A Poem by Marshall


The black ribbon licks
through towering mountains
and deep succulent valleys
rushing past rows and rows
of cornfields and crevices
reaching into strange places
'honey salted'- ecstasies
to lips ripe and ready
at the top end of town
welcoming.

The same road  rips around
comes or goes
whichever takes your fancy.Anyone get it

NO STOPPING

for miles and miles
even to saunter off
and picnic with passersby

strangers stare
with secretive glances
as we pass each other on the four laned
handshake
to know that we
once took this road
to somewhere.

Author Notes

Anyone get it? Would be nice to know.

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago

© 2014 Marshall


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I don't get it but I sure do love the way you write, so who cares?

Posted 10 Years Ago



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Added on June 19, 2014
Last Updated on June 19, 2014

Author

Marshall
Marshall

Auckland, Manukau City, New Zealand



Writing