Finite tracks traverse
Infinite space and time
Every passage a new road
Every road a new story
Played out in the rhythms
Of dashed lines and power poles
Where even the vanishing point
Vanishes
Into futures unexplored
Tag: the road
The Invitation
Blacktop glimmering
Invitation to explore
Hostile enchantress
The Loneliest Road
Long lonely highway
Stippled asphalt
Humming rubber
Eating up the miles
Alone in thought
Serene solitude
Long lovely highway
The Open Country of Being
No greater metaphor
To my reason for being
Than a remote highway
Through open country
I’ve not yet explored
With the tools in hand
To tell the tales
Of my discoveries
More and more
Discovery comes
As reflections of my self
In the landscape of existence
Straight Stretch
Oft times the path ahead
Seems crystal clear and straight
Still I proceed with caution
Keep my eye upon the road
For sudden curves unforeseen
For living things which cross the lane
For side roads leading from the route
Some could throw me from my course
And I could lose my way
Some may form a barrier
Force me to a halt
Some may lead me far astray
Distract me from my goals
Some may offer opportunity
A better route to go
And which of these
I may not know
Until I drive
Some many miles beyond
The Promise
There is a promise in the road
Not the destination
Every place I may want to go
Is a waypoint
On the way to another place
Neither the journey
What is to be gained
From moving
For the sake of movement
But once the wheels
Begin to roll
Changes begin
The promise manifests
What I see; How I think; Who I am
Landscapes
These things we do to landscapes
Of space and time
Of politics and social norms
Of family and friends
The things that stay
But never stay the same
The ephemeral things
Lost and soon forgotten
Nothing ever stays
But change
Which is often the point
Of these things we do to landscapes
Change the landscape
Change each other
Change ourselves
Cloud Cover
The band of ominous cloud
Hovers over the highway
Mile after mile
Hovers over the highway
Mile after mile
An oppressive weight
Waiting to fall
My mood becomes dark as the sky
Until I realize the low grey cover
Provides an atmospheric parasol
A gift to soften harsh desert sun
Diminish the heat of afternoon
An invitation to step out of the car
I breathe deeply in sage-scented air
While my mood becomes effervescent
As sage drifting in the desert breeze
Instamatic Memory Machine
Much as I hate moving
And all that packing
Which takes forever
As I go through the shoe boxes
Of memorabilia
Stacked in the closet
Which have remained unopened
Since the last time I moved
And all that packing
Which takes forever
As I go through the shoe boxes
Of memorabilia
Stacked in the closet
Which have remained unopened
Since the last time I moved
I have to admit
To some minor or major
Moments of fascination
Or delight
Or longing
Emotion moving my core
With some rekindled
Long-forgotten moment
Or chapter
In a life becoming much too long
To hold all the memories
Within my mind alone
A birthday card
A letter written but never sent
Elementary report cards
And aptitude test results
A story I’d written
With misshapen letters
And a child’s innocence
A Dragnet drama
Starring a detective snake
Age eight
Comfort Food
It was a straight run
Down valley
And at 100 miles an hour
The landscape became a gun barrel
I rifled through
Down valley
And at 100 miles an hour
The landscape became a gun barrel
I rifled through
The road was freshly paved
Though heavily pebbled
So the car hummed
As it shimmied in the heavy winds
Here was I
A projectile crossing open country
Which to my being is as good
As being wrapped in a blanket
By a fire on a snowy winter’s eve
Road trips are comfort food for my soul
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