There is little more delightful to roadtrippers
Than a lightly used highway
Which does the exploring for us
Than a lightly used highway
Which does the exploring for us
Happy and curious
Enthralled with
The foreigner
And his camera
I may have to step
Through many doorways
To find its source
Sights, sounds, smells
Unlike anywhere else
In a country
Unlike anywhere else
To Tibet
In the heart of Beijing
It’s so decreed
By The Party
She’d seen my camera
A foreigner with a camera
“Take my picture!”
Happily, I oblige
Line her up with the street
The cyclist, passing by
First glass
Now wood
And the grass grows high
Like here, where the fires burned
In Yellowstone
And the sky shone purple
Above the sun’s yellow, turned
But time itself wields no might
But for agents of change
Like the workings of nature and her creatures