Old Habits
I traveled these back roads in my youth
Which ribbon the countryside
Chuck-holed veins that piece together distance
Where hawks squat on fence posts staring at passersby
Intoxicated I’d drive alone
Nurturing the loneliness of those times
Decades later I journey across them sober
As if revisiting old thoughts
That never found resolution
Etched into each crack and hole
There for posterity
There to re-examine
Old habits are hard to break
These roads have not been broken
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.