carpool with the moon.



To shun the world
they slept too much today
and said good morning to the moon,
hopped behind the wheel
and followed the air
till it was light with salt.

He would dream
of nylon strings
and communicate with chords,
while her words were heaviest
in brushstrokes of grey.

On a night that
foreshadowed California cold,
verse curled up with melody
and decided to carve their own
shore stains in the sand,

and the moon whispered its condolences
to a couple caught in the West Coast.


polished pause.



there could be a polished pause,
she said,
but my white picket fence
is a lens-view of the world
on wheels.


Jackie Jones is a freelance writer and photographer from Orange County, Calif. She earned a Bachelor's degree in English and journalism from Chapman University in Orange, Calif., and is currently applying to grad schools for creative writing. She never goes anywhere without her little black Moleskin book and a Nikon at her side, in case inspiration strikes.
See more of her work at her blog, TIME IS CONTAGIOUS.