The Open Road Awaits…

The open road awaits… it’s lone white line in beckoned call, sings of freedom, pulls me straight and long through curves of blackened sand, culls the bitter from my hand, sweeps my soul o’er hill and dale past bleached white laundry’s dancing sail…

Or is this dream’s impatient flirt a haunt these asphalt memories kept?
Is summer’s hope a burgeoned ghost that from the highway’s berm has crept?

Broken lines in blur and dance, count a rhythm’s hymn of trance upon the aging county road that gives no heed to faster calls, yet courts my sole desire, honed by aging signs of rust, guiding posts and points in trust rekindling age old fire.

As the v-twin roars along, my soul rejoins its freedom song that clears the purpose from this ride, stands my truth where none can hide, so drives my soul to run. That long beneath the summer elms, upon the two lane’s sacred realm my histories’ call to waken me, my ancient past explorer free and to the long white line succumb.

The open road awaits…