December 2014
I have about 200 poems in public in many different places, both online and in print, in several countries from the US and UK, to the Philippines and Malaysia. I often write on natural themes, but recently have been responding to odd prompts. I'm a semi-retired teacher in California.
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For every road trip, there must be roads—lots of them. When I drive for days at a time, I stare and notice, because what else is there to do? Here are some scenes from the road, like short breaths involuntarily taken. |
H I G H W A Y B R E A T H S
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a line of geese cross
the road ahead following no route humans know deer stand staring down interrupted in the grass long ears twitch at us every slope baked dry oaks dying bare dirt shows through more drought predicted roadside fire burns oaks and weeds blacken, the smoke blows against the hood shiny new dump trucks yellow blue red green pink white in a row— gone now mile signs exit signs billboards overpass under pass— repeat all day construction ahead trucks crawl cars must follow— mad desperate drivers new bridge across dry slopes planned before the water dropped to record lows rest stop busy— kids dogs picnics, grandpa stretches one llama climbs out across the valley dust plumes show the dirt roads where trucks race the wash boards |
buying gas— the truck
stop cheaper, buy more gas, more gas, wash the windows wind turbine farm lined square then angled then flat then sideways as I pass next gas one hundred ten miles—straight roads cut through horsts no humans at all at the pass trucks rest heat pouring off brakes cooling before they slide down empty road lone tree stands, pronghorn hide under it waiting for night fall road junction sign reads North sixty six, South thirty both on one square post plenty of road kill to eat— coyotes vultures happy to forage sunset down the road red pavement lit— a runway in black leading home stars barely seen— lights of cars, signs, roadside business push out the night sky finally stop to sleep arms stiff, eyes glazed barely walk dreams filled with freeways |
©2014 Emily Strauss