White Lines

White Lines

Even though
I’ve not gone
in quite awhile,
I used to love to take
drives out across
the country.

When I was young,
I’d go all alone
or with a friend
late at night
for drives
with the excuse
of getting a coke
or a vanilla shake
from obscure little
towns ninety
or a hundred miles
away from home.

Driving on summer nights
with the window down
the sound of warm evening air
rushing into the car
wipes clean your mind
and clears your inward eye.
The white lines flow
rapidly towards you
in the headlight beams
and quickly disappear
beneath your car
taking the clutter and jabber
of day-to-day thoughts
with them.

The vastness of the land
and the star filled skies
reach far, far into your soul
and draw out ideas and emotions
as deep and broad
as the skies your journey
takes you under.

Long ago, driving there
far across the Wyoming
sagebrush prairies
roving quickly through corners
thinking speed,
my life took a wide turn
and became philosophy.

Dewey Dirks

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