Archive
05/31/11 - (2)
Anywhere
This Memorial Day Monday, We awaken, unapologetically late (For having lingered in a pas de deux of love's making), Into a yearning to exercise our freedom, Abrogate all traces and shapes of schedules, expectations, Reminders of the blinders we mindlessly wear, During the hither and thithering of our workaday weeks.
Soon, the city recedes into a distant vision, On the slipstream of our silver, open-top Corvette. Like electricity, the wind whips and sizzles through our hair, As we chase meandering, cicada-susurrant roads, Between Highway 40 and Augusta's bottom lands, Where we sit, kiss, discuss us, on a winery patio, Gazing out, on the hawk-defined invisible breeze.
Then, once again, you occupy the driver's side, Throttle the lusty engine, into its throaty baritone. Low to the earth, we flow as if on a tributary of golden air, Monumentally carefree, Questing no destination, on this stretch of our escape, Except for that anywhere named imagination. And we'll know we're there when the sun never sets.
05/31/11 - (2)
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