It will be called the highway of holiness

But we prefer the freeway
its endless billboards of promise
its white lines we hoard
to build our picket lives—
a testament to progress.

Freedom is in the foot that accelerates,
in passing on the left or right,
advancing on the might of our engines.
We deride the student driver
who looks back, uses her mirrors

to revisit tea parties in tree houses,
or quiet Sundays on a porch swing.
She’ll learn soon enough
that it’s all speed and spoilers.
There’s no shoulder to cry on,

only the next bend
and the one after that
until we’re all genuflecting
to geography—as if it’s the going
that gets us somewhere.

Copyright © 2019 by AJ Saur, from Odds n’ Ends (Murmuration Press)

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