Drainage
A friend and I talk inside drink,
time like the fastest of decades.
Entertained with limited space,
laughing at enlightened charades.
What's on my shadowed aves,
is, of course, not on his streets.
Road courses are paved and worn,
best lap times among lost receipts.
Accelerate on the cobbled alleys,
each burned out in our own way.
Scattered in gutters and drainage,
I saw my rain not racing away.
EaS
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