A thousand miles approach, it took half of that just to shake the weight of generations in your blood line. Wyoming disappears in a thunder cloud, Nebraska a carpet of cows, until at last the fever breaks and you can breathe again. The rain rolls across the plains until you pass into Missouri, American bends and stretches underneath your wheels. You wonder why it feels like a farewell tour.
Wonder why it feels like America is slipping through your fingers when you're still woven in it.
The sun sets over a rest stop along the highway. It doesn't care for your questions. You cling to that calm like your future depended on it.
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