Passing lights
April 3, 2012
She says
‘we all have to start somewhere’
keeping her eyes on the road.
milestones flash by through the night like cigarette embers,
and promises of other lives
wink wink wink
through the windows of houses we pass.
in the dark it’s hard to see.
bugs splatter against the windshield
as tens of life metaphors a mile
correct the wrongs we think.
her rubber smokes road
inch by inch.
the engine sings
She says
‘we all have to start somewhere’
keeping her eyes on the road.
diners go by like missed opportunities
every other hour
while we follow the words of the GPS
instead of a compass
because voices in the sky never lie
She shivers against the night
hands at ten and two,
clutching the wheel
just hard enough to turn her knuckles white
and I change tracks on the CD again
nice to see you post anton…hope you’re back safely from your trip… love the poem…the gps and voices in the sky part especially..and yes..we all have to start somewhere..
ha nice one anton…i like the bug splattered windows & life metaphors correcting the way we think….listening as well for those voices in the sky…
Really like the mix of speech and poetry. Works so well.
Great imagery as well. Easy to visualize the whole thing.
Nice write here.
“tens of life metaphors a mile…” this made me home in on the marvelous metaphorical quality of this poem. There is something magical about traveling in the night.
Missed you Anton.
I know that road trip sans gps – wouldn’t use one if I had it.(who programs them, anyway?). Just got a new car. It’ll be fun to see how it diffiers from others.
I like that you handed the driving over to “her” as you gaze at the opportunities missed. Ha. I always think men feel that way as passenger. Great write.
Stay well, my friend!
Life is a highway – and that metaphor pervades this poem so powerfully, in so many of its well-crafted tableaux – “diners go by like missed opportunities every other hour”. A pleasure to read.
Thanks for the comments everyone.
Claudia, I am back, just haven’t written anything in a while.
Gay, how is everything going with you?
hey…just wanted to say hi…missing your poetry…
happy new year anton…
Every once in a while, I read a poem that is so good that I cannot comment except to say thank you. This is one of those times. I saw those embers. Wonderful.
ashtray-blackandwhitebreast-
cigarettegirlgreen is the title
of an album lost somewhere
along Interstate 40
when we were running
away from the rest of our
lives. you pulled it from
the trunk of that old Rabbit
which we knew would never
make it any further than
Nashville, but surprised
us instead, rolling into
Albuquerque. i can’t really
say if we escaped in the
end, but being here with
you, with those confident
chords kicking in, traps
me all over again
.
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