Two Lane Poems | Examples

My Last Day in Ogalala

Road work had been finished
for the winter on an asphalt strip
north of town near a nature preserve.
I said good-bye to the hotel owner
and he invited me back
although the town was a lifetime away
from my home. We shook hands.
The town wore its history well
with a façade of an old west town
complete with a jail and post office
on its main street, as if it wanted
to live that life again.
Picture postcards were sold in a drug store
to be packed away and taken home.
Gates of fences aligning themselves
on either side of a highway
spoke of the last cattle drive.
I realized this was the west
where cowboys lived and died.
Reflections stirred of how we gave of our lives
for our dreams and for the ones we loved.
Hasn’t it always been this way?
Sandhills loomed to my side as I drove
on a two-lane east to another town
where I could see another historic site
then get onto the interstate and drive
to the next assignment.
The sky above the open land was an ocean
as I drove east toward the sun.

did you get a good look at the driver

A black sportscar driven by a new driver
Mistakes a two-lane road for a three-lane road
The driver of the car zooms in between two other cars
They both pull off, shaken

One of the drivers is an off-duty police officer.
He goes to the other driver to see if he is okay.
The men discuss what happened.
Did you get a good look at the driver?
Neither of them can describe him

Maybe he was young?
I think he had a red cap.
Before the police officer leaves
The fifteen-year-old girl asks, “Did you want his license plate number?”
Until this moment she had been excluded from the manly conversation.

On Safety for School Buses

Do you know why bus rules are important?
We stop for school buses as they’re slowing.
Their yellow lights indicate take caution.
When red, the lights mean kids you may see going. 
They might be going on the bus or off.
On two-lane roads, whether you are front or rear,
you have to stop, and the reason is
kids out of anywhere might appear.

Children can be hard sometimes to spot.
Around big yellow buses, please take care.
What of those on lanes that number three or more?
Those coming from the rear then must be aware.
Buses have been built for children’s safety. 
They’re energy-absorbing, did you know??
Both economically and environmentally!
School buses for our kids are the greatest way to go.

Flagger- PS

My partner called out cars she sent
as we stood at opposite ends
of the work zone, and when
hers had passed, I called out mine
sending them along a narrow passage.

We found a common language
to communicate, and we made
small talk when things were slow.

The construction crew struggled
to settle each fresh coat of asphalt
over a moist bed of clay
of a two-lane in northeast Nebraska
arcing and curving over hills and valleys
between two unincorporated areas.

Black angus cows grazed
on a grassy hill, coincidental beauty found
in another time and place,
and a bull bellowed
to declare the spread his own.

After work my partner and I stood
outside our rooms at the hotel.
She talked about her husband
and I talked about a librarian
who read my poems.

While we spoke about our
lives back home, a light in the lot
shone a distant star.

Mystique of the Mojave

A white wash of striated clouds
stretch expansively 
across the arid desert sky
where Joshua trees commune
lifting up crooked cactus-like arms
towards the searing sun. 

Massive layers of brown boulders 
jut, forming endless sculptures 
hidden places where the ancients 
made their penitence with words
swept away by unforgiving winds. 

Shadows shift under the arc of the sun
where nervous roadrunners dart
startled lizards seek shade
great hawks circle with outstretched wings 
and tortoises amble as the hours crawl by. 

Two lane highways trail into the horizon 
toward snow capped mountain peaks 
lined by nameless telephone poles 
and tumbleweeds that roll aimlessly 
across storefronts and sleepy 
rundown towns in disrepair. 

Yet the mystique of the Mojave plains
still remains an inviting oasis 
of refreshment and contemplation 
where time stands still
beneath the stillness
of the midnight stars. 









12/5/2022

It Was To Be Our Day

it was to be our day
we would take the motorcycle out
thru those two-lane mountain roads
but nature had other plans
i do so love you holding on
arms wrapped around me
as the woods go by
i feel as if we are running free
across life's great meadow
but today, i have the savor of breakfast
croissants, your chocked full omelet 
crisp bacon, coffee, a touch of cinnamon
watching the rainfall, holding hands
occasional thunder, bolt racing across the sky
its crescendo startles you
my arm enfolds, the world is secure 
the constant reminder
a day can never disappoint
the ordinary reveals the roots
are buried deep in the extraordinary
the depth of moments spent with you

   OKC   5/22

Walk Me Through Old Memories

walk me through old memories
days when true love came to be
take me down an old backroad
on a two lane highway fantasy

and paint the picture of sunset
parked in a field where we met
as fireflies wait on night to fall
until we're close as we can get

we'll dance beneath the stars
by headlights of a parked car
country music from the radio
Dixie moon shines
near and far

so:

walk me through old memories
before gray twilight came to be
just one last time for yesterday
until morning sun
awakens
me

We Are Alone

Bowing down to the neon gods at midnight
Those flashing lights
Brilliant stars keep me up at night
Quick steps grazing concrete
On these city streets the loneliness doesn't sting
Watchful eyes steal glances
Hopeful glimpses into each other's souls
Are we all just cars passing one another on this two lane of life

Shining Moons Over Arkansas

Attended an Arkansas small-town celebration 
a few years ago somewhere on the map,
where two-lane roads were in need of repair,
driving for hours and eating dust caused despair.

We met our friends at a specific destination,
so glad to see familiar and friendly faces,
had an opportunity to take a picture with a queen,
an honorable title of Miss CatfishTeen.

The highlight of the day was a picnic feast,
all you can eat fresh fish, coleslaw and taters,
walking up to the long line my shorts fell down, 
exposing two shiny moons much to my frown.

The lesson of this story is to check the elastic
on your shorts and keep a safety pin in pocket,
also to remember to wear your Fruit of the Loom
in case you have a wardrobe malfunction of doom.

Arctic Seasoned Disguise

~

Winter breathes in sepia tones along a lonely two lane street
divided amongst the sweeping frozen dunes
now forced into shouldered amnesty

Street lights shiver in snowcapped bonnets
while sidewalks sleep ‘neath blankets of flittering flakes
The air, frigidly crisp…moves of tiny chiffon sparkles dancing

Rooftops, plump and soft, show off their frosted padding 
as evergreens find alabaster fingers tickling their branches
in chilled teasings and frozen dustings

Footprints, once there are gone, covered and recovered again
all evidence of life is erased beneath pearl clouded skies
and faint outlines of distant thoughts

White on black stripes drape in glacial wanderings
spanning the slush of asphalt weavings 
in straight line piercings across the wintry landscape

January reigns brutal, subzero ponderings swirl
from high above the icebox wasteland, once brimming with color
now opaque in its arctic seasoned disguise…

~

Written from memory…no winter here. : )

Falling Star

two lane highway
in the countryside
dormant fields sleep
in shadows
reflective markers
count the miles
soft classical music
plays
haiku shared
to ease the way
darkness
and stories of despair
a friend says lightning
will turn winter to spring
a flash of green
all too briefly seen
visions of fortune
I try to believe

Red Pill

yah, I took the red pill
and the Matrix came apart 
like a cheap suit in a car wash
while the distance between bad to good 
became a weaving graph line
down the two lane blacktop
as traffic in either direction 
meant nothing other
than more dead armadillos
skidding to a stop inches away
Chrysanthemum Ritzik tosses her hair
and opens the passenger door
I'm gonna ride you 'till sunrise
she hissed as the whip bit
Ok Ok I screamed
I'll wear the alligator shoes
and the rhino horn hat
we're all on a mission
I blurted while diving 
out of the Cadillac front seat
as she spun the wheels
all over my face 
spitting gravel and alkali dust
I yelled like a hog caller
living on hope will only turn you into
another blue pill hope monster
leaving me a single consolation
as I limped along the tarmac
plotting the revenge that
sank Atlantis

Picture This Episode Two

My son-in-law took my 15-year-old granddaughter for a driving lesson. 
She has a permit so she needed an adult.
On the way back they stopped for ice cream, and she wanted to eat hers
so my son-in-law was driving back.

A truck tried to get in between my son-in-law’s car and a new Camaro.
This is a two lane road, but the truck was driving too fast to stop, so it sideswiped
them both.
My son-in-law said he watched the other driver in full police uniform get out of the
brand new Camaro. He thought “This is going to be good!”
The driver of the truck pulled out, squealing his tires.
The police officer told my son-in-law “I can’t go after him. 
I just got off duty. Did you get his plate number?”

My son-in-law said, “It happened too fast. Didn’t you get it?”
My 15-year-old granddaughter held up a piece of paper. 
“I got it,” she said.
Proud?
You bet.
We learned later that the hit and run driver is also only fifteen. 
It will be years before
he drives again, 
and I cannot imagine his parents’ delight or 
the enthusiasm of his
uncle when he gets to make that phone call tonight to the child's parents.
A difficult lesson.
Especially when you hit-and-run.

Grandpa

I remember as a little child
When Saturday would come
We would get in the car
And to grandpas house would go
It seemed to take forever to
Travel down the two-lane road
As radio stations came and went
With every little town
He house sat all alone
No one live near by
And he had many sheep
Out behind his house
And at night we gathered in
Around the radio we sat
Listening to magic radio shows
From so very far away
Then drive back home in the dark
Thought sleeping little towns
And very late we would get back
To our own little home

Desert Paint

The two-lane road stretches
through a shimmering glaze
to the horizon, passing
smokestacks of mesas spewing
clay and maize in vaporous mass.

I hear the sibylline whisper of rain 
through emerald brush
and serpentine hiss
of slithering sand.
The acrid smell permeates
evergreen and purple sage,
carries the aroma
with fine dust.

I point my thumb west,
a prayer for a willing traveler
to whisk me away 
from the cumulative downpour
when the desert paint 
floods umber in the gullies.

• Short Two Lane Poems
• Famous Two Lane Poems
• Best Two Lane Poems
• Read Two Lane Poems
• Long Two Lane Poems
• Two Lane Quotes