No matter
All the miles
I’ll go
The turn for home
Eventually comes
Curves twist back upon themselves
.
Though when they do
They’re not the same
But when they’re gone
They’re lost forever
John Steinbeck devoted a full chapter of his epic roadtrip, The Grapes of Wrath, to Route 66. Five words of that chapter — three words, really — captured everyone’s imagination. Three words.
“66 is the mother road,” wrote Steinbeck. Poetry. Evocation.
I leave a trail
I follow one
I leave a mark
I seek one
I know my place
Where I am
Where I’ve been
Where I’m going
By the markers
How is it possible
There is such glory
In this universe
And how improbable is it
That I am its witness?
Nostalgia
Mixed with quirkiness
Leavened by wit
And insight
There are places of the past
We let go
To lie fallow and go to ground
Because we no longer need them
Pix to Words 