Carolime Time

shifting feet

blank board splintered on the side of the road sticking a nail out, departed from the thumb shouting for space on an already-hitched ride, stop. sitting on a discarded log left dried to the side, rising hurriedly at the roar of an engine. life passes by, shiny and new. slows down, backs up, rolls down a window. behind tinted glass, an eye, no, a shade peeks out, assessing the situation and the circumstances. can i step in? is there space in your trunk for a spare piece of me? a blank board? sand me down, shape me up, make me like new, paint me up, i’d look best in red, glossy. thrown in, gratefully amid peers, semblance of life and others that look exactly the same, in other shades of cherry, red, tomato, burnt in the heat to a brown, dried crust of blood, hanging from a nail, sticking out from a trunk of life, passing by.

thought skimping, be kind to me, i’m trying to catch up