The Highway
People travel me from far and wide
Cars, vans, trucks, people inside
Going places around the globe
I help them on my open road
Winding up and down the hills
Some stop to see ocean spills
Police surveying people’s speed
So, the traveler’s better take heed
I have ramps for people to exit their space
Of final destination or resting place
I am the highway that has some strife
Looking for my exit to start a new life
If I could find it, I could begin again
Just like these travelers when they come to their end.
©Holly P. Moore
December 2012
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