by Glenn Currier
Being out in this field of wheat
with its bright amber perspective
all the way to the horizon
breathing in aroma of soil
wind taking my hat into the stalky expanse
feels both free and forfeit.
Having no path or track
or boundaries beside me
is both wondrous and restive.
In this rebellious space
I wish for a hand
someone to coach me
tell me what to do with this liberty.
I tread back to the car
I parked by the highway
but it is not there
my trusted vehicle gone
I know not where.
My thumb in the air
needing, hoping, longing for a ride
but at least there is the highway
sprinkled with sparkle
and passages of counsel and direction
beckoning to an uncertain celestial horizon.
Author's Note: Inspired by the poem, "Red Line (Morse) by John Herzog.
Posted on 05/10/2018
Copyright © 2019 Glenn Currier
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 05/10/18 at 04:41 PM|
Despite the loss of your car...strong positive message here Glenn.
|Posted by John Herzog on 05/10/18 at 07:01 PM|
I love this. Firstly, you found meaning in my piece I didn't even know was there. I'm honestly touched - this made my day. That aside, this poem is so beautifully written. I'm right there with you in that field, scanning the horizons for the next course of my journey.