poetry

Route 69

​

You could get lost on route 69, all the energetic activity, curves and speed bumps, 

blowing the mind.

Not a traffic sign, 

present to obey, 

a yield, slow down, stop, 

nor speeding ticket gave.

Only rock hard pavement 

and plains to graze, 

until mist beads the surface,

to warn, 

of a pending flood’s rage, 

mutual assistance engulfed by individual craves,  

were lost in route 69,  

but found in a daze.

Erotic 18+ Poetry By Tamara Moore

Thinker on the Loose 

Copyright  (c) 2017 Reserved purposes intended. 

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