I wrote this poem a very long time ago – I think it was in the year 1994. So, about 25 years ago. I liked it when I wrote it, but I liked it even better when I discovered that my friend liked it as well. It seems like a good poem to share here. It still seems relevant to me, even if I don’t do as much driving as I used to.

My dad gave me his car when he and my mom moved to nyc in the late 1980s. It was a 1987 Toyota Corolla. That car took me across country so many times… Her name was Rosie. If my memory serves me correctly, I wrote this poem heading to NJ from WA state to work for the summer.

My Road

My road has a long neck

and

soft shoulders

hard shoulders

grooved and bony shoulders

Red, brown, black, and white

Or is it all just grey matter?

no matter

it takes me where I want to go

and where I don’t dare to go

My road is littered with beauty

and choked by activity

But somehow still going

Pumping

Pulsing

Zooming

into the distance beyond the next hill

around the next curve

And the deer along the side look at me with panicked eyes

My road is strewn with life

in endless rainbows

And death

in the smell of decomposing skunks

My road fills me with a sense of longing and remembrance

Sweet electric rain

moistening the inside of my nostrils

as I breathe deep

and I go along

wondering what’s coming up next

sometimes knowing

but never completely sure.