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Roadsong
by Aaron BlairThe moon's got a face like a wax figure that melted,
leering, always, silent and silver-dust-colored,
a peeping tom peering down from a dark sky,
and everywhere I turn he looks, his dim shine following.
The cars are trailing blood from their tail lights,
a mist of red. I remember the roadkill the highway
would always puree with time, that orange kitten
straddling the yellow line, its body still solid, but waiting.
It occurs to me that motion is a terrible thing,
seventy miles an hour on a state road with my
eyesight failing me, the signs all a mysterious blur.
But I don't stop. I can't stop. Ahead of me,
I've got everywhere and nowhere else to be.
09/06/2006 Posted on 11/25/2006
Copyright © 2024 Aaron Blair
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Emily Tong on 01/04/07 at 03:52 AM wow. this was really a well written piece -- " I remember the roadkill the highway
would always puree with time, that orange kitten
straddling the yellow line" nice descriptions... they really made sense to me. i always thought that the moon looked like a rabbit more than a man, you know? just a random thought. but definately a great work -- haunting. it sort of echoes with the feeling of constant driving.. "I don't stop. I can't stop..." |
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