NIGHT'S JOURNEY

Now, as the 18 wheeler bears west its rhythm
Rocks the earth and from her pullman berth, she stares
Into the night which others take their rest. Bridges of
Iron lace a suddenness of trees, a lap of mountain's
Mist all cross her line of sight.

Then a bleak wasted place and a lake below her knees,
Full on her neck she feels the straining at a curve,
Her muscles move with steel, she wakes in every jerk,
She thunders thru hills and curves washed with
The light, beyond the mountain's pass fog deepens
On the pave;

She rushes thru the rain that rattles the double glass
The wheels shakes the road into the bedinstone;
The pistons jerk and shove
She stays up half the night to see the land she loves.