Thursday, October 3, 2013

On An Evening Drive (A Poem)




The sun is setting across a precipice
Of brick chimneys and wooden houses.
I am driving across the interstate,
A lonely stretch of road,
Two wheels deep into
a barren country town,
A forgotten purgatory
that hangs in limbo
Between two worlds;
Shirtless toddlers
And the seamless dreams
Of young mothers
Who wed their souls
To these grassy knolls of ‘nowhere.’
And I’m two wheels behind
A big city, rich in
The abstractions of coffee shops,
The fabric of a college town
Where colleagues argue philosophy
And the young drink in bars,
Their feet still sore
Of last nights’ block party.
I drive quickly past
The water-color hues
Of these distant places
As if there was a weighted bomb
Strapped to the sole of my shoe,
Red whiz of my car covering
The blank space between
So many places I could never call home.
Evening is beginning to unhinge
A finger-nail moon and
I think of the starry nights
Of Van Gogh,
the many miles
Of city road that winds before me
Like stretched rope.
The map between us naming distances
In calculations of handprints
And finger-lengths,
Squiggly longitudinal lines
Where the names of towns
Click across my tongue,
unfamiliar as a foreign language.

5 comments:

  1. I feel I'm riding right along with on that long road between where you were and where you want to be. Lovely

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  2. Yes, this is really lovely. I second mama.

    Pamela

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  3. I love visual poems, and it's easy for me to shut my eyes and "see" this poem come to life --I love the colors and the textures I sense in the images. It's gorgeous on the page and would be spectacular to hear read live.

    -Nicole

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  4. Imagery is lovely and easy to imagine.

    ReplyDelete

Thank you for taking the time to comment, it is so appreciated. Your thoughts and critiques are always welcome! I will be by to visit your blog soon!