I can’t speak for others, but I can speak for myself when I say the coming of autumn fills me with the desire to hit the open road…

Pushing the speed
limit
beneath the open
blue-white
wet brush skies
south-west
Wisconsin

I traced
yellow-dashed
gray, white, pebble
asphalt line
through
squiggled maze of cornfield yellow
grass green
and tie-dyed earth

For a time I ran
in the picket fence shadow
of bleach-white
plastic tooth pick
windmills
standing like
H.G. Wells invaders

behind a billboard skyline
of
hobby shop
train model
tiny grain elevators
classic red Wisconsin barns
zebra blob dairy cattle

eating

Lifting off
foot down, window open, radio loud
over each hill crest
returning to earth
on the back side

I dared winter to catch me
It’s a race I know I can’t win

And yet…

Related Posts:

1. Distracted Amtrak
2. Open Water
3. 400
4. Speak to Rain
5. The Effect of Living Backwards