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By Rhetoric Date: 2002 Jun 04 Comment on this Work [[2002.06.04.18.28.9884]] |
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Route 35 East Over each rolling hill, I come closer to seeing my way to loving you. Sprawling grasses and bright green shoots of corn, sway like mighty metaphors to catch my eye. "Over here, see how fresh the field can be; if you would just let us grow." Those songs and sights are my romantic muses. With each divot and ghastly pothole, I swerve to avoid the thump of yet, another, terrible pause in my one track mind; I am following the river home. How this landscape, this trek from heart to home, does mirror a scared girls vision of what love should be. All this space, filled with asphalt and memories, concrete and dreams. I wonder if I will ever make it home, or just arrive where I stop? |