Roads
The open road once
beckoned this soul.
Many, many a journey
towards adventures.
Miles and miles
upon the surface of this continent.
Flying by the seat
of my pants to destinations unknown.
Now, this black
ribbon, upon which I gallop
leads to not but
many familiar places, familiar faces,
as the road calls
me, every day, to retrace my tire tracks.
Going over the
same old ground, a rut going round and around.
B. J. “A ” 2
December 10th,
2019
