Vacation of the Mind
Cars and trucks moving fast and fasterover mile after mile of highway
compete for my attention
as we become a part of the great moving horde
headed for respite some place other
than where we've been.
A passenger of time, traveling
away from who I was back there
in the now and everyday life,
I dream, as faces speed by
in their own time capsules
running away from or towards
familiar days without surprises.
Dream-staring, I consider the sky
painting with white and blue brushes
in bold swaths like a sythe in the wheat fields
I cannot hear in this state, ears excuse themselves
granting space in my mind to image and emotion,
A destination not subject to the laws of movement.
A sudden stop brings me back
to the sounds and smells of traffic.
Faces in other vehicles show strain
and boredom.
I look at my driver, focused on the at hand
then open my ears, turn on music of my youth,
and close my eyes.
My vision dismissed, I am free to fly off
to the times and places of sweetness and love.
Moving down the highway
my body strapped in an apolstered seat
I go where I am taken
by music or scene
time relevant only to a physical destination
but opened wide to a vacation of the mind.
Poetry by Phyllis J. Rhodes
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Written on 2009-07-14 at 22:23
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