Waiting for Neon
by AmiIia K Spicer
It’s a rodeo day where I am.
There in the prisms— keys to the kingdom
Golden-eyed rushed, we waiting for neon. Waiting for neon.
A sign to believe on that will glow in the dark. - AKS
SOMEWHERE WEST OF Manhattan, Kansas, I stepped out of the car and looked in all directions. Flat. Like they said. But interesting. Which they hadn’t said. A decent release of a bowling ball thrown from that vantage point could have meant a strike at the other end of the state. Barring any interference from the tumbleweeds.