When the headlights
struck the stars
and the radio de-tuned
to static songs,
the highway dropped
away and clouds
grew shapes across
the galaxies below my tires.
And though my hands
still gripped the wheel,
I was now a passenger.
26 Comments | Filed under: poems and poetry | Tagged: big tent poetry, highway sky, poems
James I love the images you have created here. Where have you been?
you have been away, too long!
Pamela
Thanks, Pamela. I’ve been busy with non-blogging projects of late. Thanks for your comment!
Like this one a lot. Brief, yet filled with good images that pull one from line to line. The last line leaves one suspended and only a passenger, right there with the narrator.
Elizabeth
Thanks, Elizabeth. I appreciate your comment.
There’s a bit of magic in this poem. Lovely.
Thanks, Vivienne.
Sounds like a great road trip:)
It’s more an accident than a trip, but fictional either way.
Beautifully succinct, the tight structure organised so as to serve that final line. Excellent.
Thanks, Dick. The last line–the last word, really–is where it started and I drifted backwards from there.
Entering the twilight zone! Enjoy the ride.
Thanks, Derrick.
I like how it ended.
designed patterns
Thanks, Gautami. It’s a moment of letting go.
This is gorgeous!
Thanks, Tilly Bud!
Nice description of a flip – your poem made me see/ feel as if I was there (shudders; been in some black ice incidents and that was bad enough). Well done!
Thanks, Ruth. I’ve also never been in a flip (in a car anyway) just a few minor scrapes. Glad to hear it worked.
Nifty.
Is the truth out there?
Fortunately, it’s fictional.
Very dreamlike piece and quite lovely…I had to read it twice!
Thanks, Cynthia. I was looking for something almost optimistic in a terrifying moment.
I love this trip.
Thanks, Tumblewords.
Very cool, but I hope, in the end, there was no damage…
Thanks, Joseph, and it’s fiction. I like to think the speaker is still flying…