Best Cross Country Poems

waxed skis glide smoothly
tracks on fresh, crisp, moonlit snow
frozen woodland sounds...

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**A Travel East**

We pass the Grand Mesa cruising like lightening at 95mph, 
I feel like a passenger on a toy train.
A mountain 11,000 feet above the ground,
auburn colored, rock faced cliffs, complimented 
by a spectacular baby blue sky.
Clouds scatter, trying unsuccessfully to cover
the rapid sunrise.
Blue,
Indian...

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I called you to say
Hello
and you called out ...
Hello ... Hello?
hanging up on my silence.

What game is this I play?
I came to you to hold me.
Cross-country affair
doesn't seem now
what was there then
within your silence.

Goodbye, goodbye 
to Tallulah, Louisiana
naked poverty stark.
Goodbye, goodbye
to the meteorite crater
ever always...

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Miles and miles of open country pass as the train moves.
A sudden thrust, jolt then nothing. The earth stands still.
Wind circulates pushing branches, leaves dance with the melody..
We sit..
Or movement halted by a slow moving freight,
we do an unheard of twenty five miles per hour.
I...

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me and you on a poor man's cross country trip
we never run out of gas
we never eat all the snacks
we do not need any ice for the cooler
we don't even need to get any drinks
all we are doing is looking at houses in other parts...

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I-95, I-80, I-78 or Route 1
Destined schedule with luggage
The journey
The start
The Distance
Long haul ride
Recline and Relax
Rest stops
Destined Towns and Major Cities
High Mountains
The uphill and downhill range
Highways to off ramps
Panoramic scenery
Towns people wave
Feeling of welcome
America’s history reflecting back
4 Days in Hours, Minutes and Seconds
Life thought of...

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Today’s thought
Tomorrow’s venture
Bags packed
Wheels ready to spin
A Greyhound bus open road ready to begin
The journey through state to state
Stopping at towns being no mistake
Four days travel
Freeway wind
Various interstate routes
Distance far
Bus comfort than a car
Recline and relax
America’s acquaintance
Passerby wave
High Mountains up look
Heart of hope
The sense of...

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Title: Wind on our back

A camp counselor once, I thought I should glide
I ran fifteen miles, at the airport applied
A pilot took me up, above the Pocono grass
But I got airsick when the plane took a pass.

The pilot didn't want me throwing up in his...

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