I miss poems with exclamation marks!
The extravagant kind that tell people
Oh, how the world is alive! and
Your face lives beneath my eyelids!
We’re driving down the motorway!
There has been no delays! It’s dark!
We’re catching up about our last few days
apart and the lampposts down the central
reservation are candles for our feast!

© Carl Burkitt 2023

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