Favorite Roads

My Favorite Roads are ashen
a chalky white of patched
and cracked arthritic asphalt
aged and bleached
There is no centerline
no paint no makeup just
raw flesh under a midday sun
No defined lines limiting access
but rather following the collective
observable rules
of good conduct and neighborly
jurisprudence
specifically for the polite travelers
the vagabonds trespassing moments
These are not the shiny black roads
the glistening stars light on a sable curtain
These are lifelines like varicose veins
warped and stoic and telling
The Braille staccato of farm implements
and tractors of horses and bikes and
children skipping couples walking
over the sticky tar patches
plastered like gum or pine sap in
the crease of wounded trees
These roads tell stories
experienced and weathered of time
and life of legacy and inheritance
of history whispered through the wind


Khristian E. Kay