A Passage

All of my most
compelling photographs
have roads in them:

The lonely stretch of highway
to the left of a bittersweet sunset.
after the leaves have
all blown away.

The S-curve in a raceway,
-empty-
then full of revving vehicles
vying for the sweet spot in the turns,
to accelerate into the straightaway
that continues out of view.

The picturesque motorway,
that aligns directly with
an imposing palisade of rock and ice,
only to veer sharply
and begin mounting the range,
passing through the crags
to some apex.

The city’s avenue at dusk after
a spring shower, streetlights
glow off the pavement,
and tail lights pierce the
somberness
as if to punctuate
my transitory presence
in a moment.

A reminder
that I was there and moved on.

This too shall pass

They are widening streets in the suburbs,
and I’m thinking of Frost’s two roads,
-the ones that diverged-
while I’m driving past orange barrels
that line the road in the construction zone,
trying to avoid hazards.
And as I wind my way
through the pillared gauntlet
that warns of rough road
and unlevel pavement,
I see that the roadside up ahead
clears and gives way
to trees that climb toward heaven.

These trees invite me to continue
on past where I can see.

I wonder how that change happens,
and it just does.

******

Also, just because I like the song, the video, and the idea of vast unconnected machine that ends up somewhere, Here is OK Go.