Mile Marker for a Friend

by The Quiet Voice

Original EveryPoem Studio house-voice poem.

We stop where the road bends west, where his name is tied to the fence on a strip of weathered cloth. No one revs the engine. No one says he died doing what he loved. We set one glove on the seat, stand with the traffic passing, then ride home slower than we came.
54 words · 9 lines · Free Verse
motorcyclefriendshiplossimageryunderstatementfree-verse

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