The Road

You appeared before me like a road not on the map Freshly paved and pounded flat And I, having just inflated my high performance tires Greened the light and shed my hat No sign of speed bumps or sink holes to rattle my nerves I vroomed down your stretches and rolled through your curves. With the top down, in the pouring rain, I gun it and floor it; not wanting to see The Signs of caution in front of me. Hands on the wheel, Mister! Eyes on the Road, Sister! “Oh please be the road I just know you can be!” (as though you could alter your path to satisfy me…) The road beneath does nothing to protest my bolt. After all, it knows where it goes and cares not that I don’t. As it yawns and bends, I find myself wondering where it ends. For what’s at the end of a road more often than not? Nothing but a big ol’ parking lot! And why should I care How long it takes to finally get there. So I down shift a gear and slow-up my pace. Though now I can feel the rain on my face. It’s okay though ‘cause now I know I’ve no particular place to go. I might as well lose the map, and as I grow older, I’ll rest my vehicle on your wide soft shoulder.