I thought this poem might be longer or never end

This poet
always the headshot with mouth closed
no smile to speak of
a Texas bloke
not likely a smokin’ poet
talks of what was left unsaid
by not saying it yet again.

Some silent plea for patience
or a mystery set before an audience
for some
on the other hand sort of a play
for a delay in a main act
never begun without a fight.

September 15, 2019

imagine a car so sweet and low
smoothing across roads
on a cloud carrying cool
lines so soft it makes vision ache
to drive on down that turn
those curves