Road Trips to Maine

Headphones in, engine on---

I have a way of immersing myself

into the notes of my music,

drowning myself from the drone of 

the engine

and distant voices,

barred from NE countrysides

on optimal summer days.

Road trips induce a certain nostalgia--

a feeling that is so heart-wrenching 

that I’d rather drown in a pool of

honey-colored string instruments,

than face my fear of the past’s glory.  

I am fearful of the idleness of such journeys,

blue skies that prompt blank thoughts that unravel into angst, 

which lifts my blood pressure to all time highs.  

Rather, Sinatra distracts me in all this bustle,

detracts my attention from dancing clouds

to fly me to the moon.

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