90. Notes on the Journey

The road is just a road,

be it a rut carved in the

wind-flayed grass

or a sticky blacktop finger

pointing to the horizon.

The road is just a road,

under blistered soles

or bald tires or

(more likely) both

at the same time.

The road is just a road –

it’s not the sad filling station oasis

squatting beside it;

it’s not the glittering ocean

or bleak cliff beyond it;

it’s not even the ghosts

that pierce it at regular

intervals, like mile markers,

like buoys of hope

and umpteenth chances and

rusted-shut dreams.

The road is just a road,

second cousin to

the churning ship wake,

a reflection of the airplane

tracks that zipper

the forgiving sky.

The road is just a road,

and it goes three ways:

where you’ve always been

and where you could be,

but mostly where you

are, right now.

— Amy Nixon

Amy Nixon is an award-winning poet and song-writer who lives in Manhattan, KS with her teenage son and three very spoiled cats.  She is passionate about architecture, genealogy, and guacamole, among other things.

One thought on “90. Notes on the Journey

  1. I especially like the title, and the use of repetition to drive home a point – “the road is just a road” – is effective.

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