Some roads always make me feel
Like I’m on a child’s
Hot Wheels track
Like I’m on a child’s
Hot Wheels track
Or have jumped back in time
Nearly a century
Or have jumped back in time
Nearly a century
But I can look back
At a time without industry
Without machines
Without, even, the wheel
The heat
Which makes my skin
Crackle
Like the way the gravel and sand
Grate against the soles
Of my boots
It occurs to me… Sometimes
The best way to see ourselves
Is to hand our vision to someone else
And let them tell us what they see
Now, joy and smiles
Such beautiful smiles
Even for the Americans
Once enemies, welcomed now as friends