It's Wednesday here in Ohio.
I see the sun before 6,
and it's still out after 9.
The marathon nearby
...is just a gas station.
The grass is someimes green
but someplaces summer brown.
The wind is brisk and breezy
- it's in the 40's here.
There's a minor league team in Toledo,
still playing the 20th century.
There's a lake to the north,
(call it Erie)
that flows across Niagara,
but that's far east of here.
Alone in this hotel room,
I drink water from a plastic cup,
that came in a plastic sleeve,
thinking about my mother,
who once wrote a song bout such things.
So alone.
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