Twin Ruts - July 18 2021

 

Twin Ruts

July 18 2021

The gravel road

crunches underneath,

small rocks

pinging the underside.

Clouds of dust

are billowing up

behind the car,

expanding wave after wave

almost explosively.

The ride feels rough,

new rattles

are unnerving me.

My grip seems tenuous,

the tires skittering

as if small ball bearings

had been randomly scattered

among the stones.

The pavement ended miles back

and it feels like the end of the road.

And after gravel, who knows what?

A dirt track

twin ruts

a rough trail?

I thought I could escape, heading north.

But as far as I can go

seems hardly enough.

There's been a big detour on the road to my place, but I found it open today. The bad pavement is now gravel, and in this hot dry weather the dust billows up into the sky behind each car, expanding almost explosively in all directions. I just started noodling around with the images and sensations of this new gravel road – which is even enough to attain some speed, but still has the usual roughness -- and let the poem find its way. Interesting where it went!