I saved the paper for the morning.
The morning was fog. The paper was the clear part.
Local stories. Close to home.
Daily Smile
All smilesThe morning was fog. The paper was the clear part.
The other half was wishing it had been.
The lot had started without us.
I believed the name. The road believed the grade.
I stood in a parking lot and called it a breeze.
The textbook was closed. The conversation was not.
Each one believes it is the convenient one.
The attitude lasted until the first real climb.
I found it at the first gate.
The valley looked back and kept driving.