Hickory Rd

It was overcast,

Sallow and empty and brisk

Clouds hang like a veil,

Thin and sheer over the earth

As she awaits a marriage with the rain.

Concrete road spread

Like a tangled grey thread,

Sewing through delicate countryside fabric,

Weaving beneath white cloths

Of a looming southern sky,

And climbing vibrant patterns

Of green quilted terrain.

Traffic breathed heavily,

And I drive in a herd

Of untamed machinery

Exhaling their hot, temperamental breath

Into the forgiving air.

Her honest, flightful ambition

Tastes sweet wafting from the backseat,

Laughter lifting the heavy air

And speakers pulsing to acoustic poetry,

Voices like candy escaping the radio and

Throwing songs to the wind.

Four, six, eight wheels

Spin past people tucked away

And hidden behind thick curtains,

Glancing eyes, soaked in love or fear,

Pass with too little consideration.

Branches of sweet candied pine

Stretch their limbs and wave as our car glides past,

Cheerful blends of sap and oak smells

Sneak through the crack of the window.

Freckled shadow, sporadic

Like glitter spilled between pine needles,

A scoop of vanilla ice cream sun

Whispers its soft, affectionate warmth

through a sky of screen-door clouds.

 

 

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