en route

we were
rolling and shooting up the ranges
on roads snaking and twisting and
raking through dirt and stone and
foliage, flat concrete fingers
groping motherland like a lecher.

you were
on the backseat and the passenger
seat, i am Captain, i am stuck
gripping the wheel. you told me
there were a few blue oceans on
the left and 99 shades of green on
the right. i believe you, but i
can’t take my eyes off the highway.

you said
there were a few green skies beneath
the road. there were 99 shades of
blue oceans overhead and wanting to
rain on our ride. there were dragons
with glass scales driving Harleys on
the water by the ravines, there were
floating continents at war in the mid-
morning sky. i believe you, but i
can’t take my eyes off the highway.

we were
rolling down the windows, killing off
the AC, inhaling the mountain air
and all its stories. silencing the
radio, subscribing to the cacophony
of trees and tree dwellers. halfway
to the haven in the sky, a truck
ahead makes a U-turn on the highway,
a moment to wait. to look around, to
drink in the view. stop and smell
the alors. wave at glass dragons.



2014.05.26