Cross Country Poems - Poems about Cross Country

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 reckon Observe and admire Sunrise to sundown The journey on until Arrival to Destined...

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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 plane He dived to the ground, like an eagle gone insane So...

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

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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 of this "small", rural city our mouths are still like "smuahhhhh!" our...

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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 orange, and red mix together well with the beauty of the cliff...

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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 need a shower, shave, clean clothes. A bathroom stench overwhelmingly horrific, waste...

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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 opened in desert silence. Is it wrong for me to want...

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