My Summer Wheels
My wheels lap up so many miles of solid highway
Like a cool, clean draught on this dry summer day.
Today they drink their fill. (May the cold rains return.)
Slippery silver-blue mirages pave the way in front.
Who lives on Yager Lane? Who lives on Lake Road?
Granges, wine cellars, farm-cow fields greet my progress.
Do they think to slow my haste from where I am to where I am not?
Changing life envelops me anyway.
Now I crest another hill; an elk of leafy branches
Lies in surprise on the narrow curves, but only the wind bends me.
Soon, steady tree limbs signal a quiet reflective moment
To let labyrinthine cares coil behind.
The road is purple where I'm going, and streaking gold with sun's rays.
Here, where the road lies open and plain,
I stop for a poem's breath, and sing to the trees and flowers below!
(8/24/2010)
