Wow, that's one stunning write, taking the bendier, more characterful (and character-building roads°. Love the succinct lines within this and the use of diction such as pappaw which I've never heard before and gives a definite idea of place. You draw the family scene so vividly and nostalgically, I love it.
Oh yes , you took me with you . . . and I saw the scenes , the fields , the forests and the funny travel of the clouds . . . the old ways were the paths , I suppose , that the cattle tramped going to their ponds for water . . . oldest ways might be those of the fish . . . took me deep in the Ocean of Creation . Thank you .
this is a gorgeous poem! i loved how you did the whole play on words with the ways and the old roads (which are ways, haha, yay). i also liked the irony that your pawpaw doesnt know what the old ways are, when technically he should have come from them... it reminds me of whats deemed "revisionist history" and i feel like its an inevitable thing among personal tales of the past.
now this i really like. and thinking about what you were saying the other day, you are right, sometimes simplicity is best, not just in art but in life. i love old road, there is no "automatic" driving on old roads, every inch of them must be observed, experienced. nicely done emily, enjoyed very much.
This one instantly reminds me an old song I once heard on a movie where the mother sings it to her teenage son.... 'take the long way home; take the long way home'.... old roads are so much more interesting, just like old houses....and their mystery is unsurpassed....highways are like bland food....you know. Your poem really takes the reader back to those days most happy.... My pap had an old station wagon, too BTW...my friends and I would load in and head for the mountains.... You make me smile, Emily. Thanks :-) Love it.
to the Lost Boys
I am no Wendy;
but my voice brings you back to me.
And you sit around my feet,
anxious for a story
or a kiss.
Listening to my words
spinning adventures,
like so much g.. more..