Lost Roads


Moving fast, now;

I don’t think there’s time

to reign in the motion,

or stop and correct course.

If you’ve forgotten anything;


you’ll have to learn

to live without it.

This is an unplanned get-away.

A pack up and go,


type of situation.


Burned too many nights

at the altar of shattered dreams

and wasted potential,

but these lost roads

begged for some rubber.

These pitch black highways

craved the eyes of jilted lovers

and neglected prospectors;

still nurturing a hope

and a dream.


That battered, old face in the mirror

looks topographical

and chronological.

The where and when

of life’s traumas

displayed in sharp relief

upon your face.

My face.

We’re aging well,

but maybe that’s the difference.


Maybe that’s why

we forsake our beds

for black highways

and relinquish sober dreams

for the taste

of the unknown.

Headlong into the unanswered question;

pursued by the fear

of losing another night

to the hungry pit of yesterday.


Dawn will find us

somewhere we have never been,

resting our wracked bodies

and harrowed minds,

however briefly,

before succumbing to the next leg

of our adventure.

Life lived

with the wind in our faces

an the sun upon us;

is truly freedom.


and unafraid

of losing time.


HG – 2017



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