Bluer than the sky
Bluer still than the ocean
In your truck, I'd often ride.
You like to make the sub pound
The windows so dark,
You could be inside and not be found.
I've sat in that seat and watched the stars
How did we become so far apart?
I think I've missed the mark . . . I'm having trouble ending the poem with an unrelated but really related line.
Hmmmmm,
Sharon
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