Road Trip

Why can’t I quite look past
The first line of darkened trees?
The lighting on the road sufficient,
I can see all of it quite omniscient.
But what I cannot see with ease
Is what I know is built to last.

The road gives way to stronger woods,
As if it knows that they were first.
But yet the lamps that map the route
Drown out the nature in a bout
Of harshness. This is the worst
Of our “wants,” our “haves,” our “could”’s.

I’m never one to hate any light,
For showing any path is fair.
But to have existence so intrude
I find perhaps to be too crude.
I wish I couldn’t see here, but there.
I wish the forest were more bright.

Perhaps my favorite thing about cars
Is how they are likely to be stopped
Without notice. So I look left
To quickly marvel at her deft
Work. With the high beams dropped,
I can look freely at the stars.

Unpublished Material, ©2010 Cali Digre