The Road
It’s a long asphalt ribbon, unwinding under me,
my half bald tires sing their song and I go on.
From dawn to dusk until I see the glow of another dawn,
the road is as it has always been, and as it has to be.
The diesel growls its deep abiding one note tune,
as its black smoke breath tumbles from the stack.
Sweet song of the engine, there nothing that it lacks,
a symphony of the road, about good luck and ruin.
Swapping gears to fit the road, we fly low, not slow,
pulling a fifty-seven footer of hopefully frozen meat.
Last load was clothes for Wal-Mart, the overtime a treat,
just give me a trailer loaded full, and an open road to go.
I’ve seen it all and then again, so trust me when I say,
there ain’t nothing new on the road and plenty of it there.
I dodge the toy cars, the SUV wannabe’s with care,
and make my time down the line and another bill to pay.
Roads are like people, every one is all its own,
and I know them like the back of my own hand.
Old friends and sometimes foes across this land,
each sets it own rules, in its own key and tone.
It’s a long asphalt ribbon, unwinding under me,
my half bald tires sing their song and I go on.
From dawn to dusk until I see the glow of another dawn,
the road is as it has always been, and as it has to be.
The Road.
Well done.
Man, I can really feel that one. Beautiful in feeling and apt in detail.
"The Inevitable Lightness"
--by W. S. Merwin
The roads and everything on them fly up and dissolve
a net rises from the world
the cobweb in which it was dying
and the earth breathes naked with its new scars
and sky everywhere