A Shift of Gears. A Foot on the Gas

It is not exactly a road.
But it is close enough and the theory is
that it will get you there.
Wherever there is.

You am not sure it matters.
Years into it and it matters less and less.
It is the traveling. Wind in your hair.
Breathing in each place you pass

Sometimes the trip is solitary, but only for so long.
Sooner or later, there are always people.
Snapshots. This one young, polite
with rings in her nose. That one grandmotherly

with an astonishing collection of curse words.
Another in love
with Reggai music, head nodding in the same beat
no matter the song. There is always something

about them you remember. Part of the scenery
as much as the trees and small towns
with familiar names you have never seen before.
You think. You day dream.

That is the purpose of trips like this,
Not the arriving. Not the scenery. The thoughts
of love and loss and futures. Poetry and prayers.
The curiosity of strange places:

What if you went this way or that
and kept going? Where would you end?
What would you see? Would anyone miss you?
Does it matter? Probably less than you would like to think.

A shift in gears. A foot heavy on the gas.
The wind. Always the wind
as you make a ripple. Sometimes noticed.
Sometimes invisible. Both part of who you are,

a constant traveler, less from discontent
than curiosity. Less from a need to see
than a need to feel, which for you
rarely happens when you are standing still.

About this poem

Too many influences to list here. The “About this poem” should not be longer than the poem itself, but there you go. Sometimes the world whirls in your head. Spawned most likely from an unexpected drive to the wilds of Michigan on Friday and back on Saturday. That’s more than 15 hours each way for those of you who do not know where I live. (Vermont).

The picture is my old Saab convertible. One of my favorite past times is something I call “convertabling”. Driving, with no destination and a camera. Which is sort of how, I have come to realize, I have lived much of my life.

Be well. Travel wisely,

Tom