a small town thing

In between a crackling fire and a breath of cold air,

in between a deep breath and a clouded mind,

there is more than you can imagine.

there are more stories than my mind can hold.

in fact;

in between the sound of a running engine and a field of rye,

in between the cupboards of that old kitchen,

more time has passed than you have held

and more wisdom, for all either of us know, actually,

my whole life took place in between

in between watery eyes and a yawn

in between the smell of smoke and a strong wind

in between a tangerine sky and a familiar voice,

in between a couple drinks,

showing the new guy from work around the city,

is when you point at the map,

and then at me,

and say, "yeah, this is where she’s from.

There’s nothing there".