Splat

Long and wide runs the highway
Carved eons before the land was here
There is only one road and this is it
No exits or rest stops or truck stops
Just a beginning and an end
Anxieties and emails buzz across the road
Only to splat across my windshield
Blocking the sunbaked periphery
I forget they were ever not there
Until a little sweat cleans the glass
Clearing my sight and the scene

-T. Weeks
(A response to “An Evening Lull“)