Blue Highway
a poem
my father is every road I've ever known mostly deep black highways smooth with clean yellow lines but also the weathered and broken ones my mother is every destination along the way every diner, every well deserved exit every peaceful field along the roadside but also the empty lots and flattened forests I became a driver of detours found a girl to get lost with, we drove fast into the great wide open trailblazing hot licks of flame behind us I became a road for my son to follow my wife's arms a place for him to sleep our tender scene is sublime even in the frame of doubt and mistakes I feel comfort in the rearview mirror my past and his future like the sky meeting the sunbaked road a mirage we call the blue highway
More from me:
Old Arthur, the Reformed Cowboy
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An old fashion tale set in the Old West about a retired cowboy and a peculiar interaction with the children of the town.
Well, you are the first and second one here to reduce me to tears. You express so much in so few words. I see my own life in your words. I think balance and healthy perspective can be a hard sell. Not as alluring as doom and destruction.
Not so today!! Elegant, Ricardo.
Boom! Don't call it a comeback :) Lovey!