Roads

Some are long and straight
roads you can fly down
wheels hovering on grains of dust
runways crisscrossing the high desert
kicking you west

some are barely roads at all
gnarled and humped
as rheumatic knuckles
roads you have to traverse at a crawl
dragging your belly over rocks
through potholes lined with cacti

some roads are alive
with sand dancing
snaking patterns from the dunes
whispering wishes carried
back into the sea

in the mountains roads are rivers
some raging wide
and fast through canyons
carving their way through
cities that perch above the clouds
tributaries meander
through high passes
laugh and weave with
meltwater streams
disappear into aspen forests
run breathlessly into flower filled meadows
make a slow descent
winding into valleys
until you are drunk with the journey
all your old bolts
shaken loose
eyes open, windows down
hair blowing wild
heart stuffed full
with the beauty of everything
the roads can bring you

I really, really love road trips, and I am super fortunate that my other half loves them too, and loves to drive, so I can photograph out the window and daydream. Thank you for reading! This is yet another from my Medium archive. . . . .