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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1614287-225
Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #1614287
Sonnet looking at the world when one takes Highway 225 to Houston
225


How does one make a road some gorgeous thing
When words whitecap and smash upon the sand?
Call fungal rash on grass a fairy ring,
But even then it's still a mushroom band.

My vents spew air with sour sulfur smells
That mix with caustic fumes of tanker trucks.
A sea of smog with rows of coal-black shells
Is Texas highway Industry Deluxe.

Road, take me in your asphault arms until
I suffocate and turn to concrete dust.
What's beautiful is driving, silent, still
And loving what your heart recalls as lust.

This road knows me, and likewise I know it.
Familiar landscapes take me bit by bit.
© Copyright 2009 J.D. Blaire (james511 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1614287-225