We Kept Driving

We were driving, my reflection and I. 

It was a road behind South Sac,

To the east of the sirens and corner stores,

And to the west of the hiccups of flat land that made up the foothills. 

Grant Line was its name.

To the left were grasses and weeds and the occasional weeping willow next to a puddle too big to be a pond and too small to be a lake. 

To the right was our shadow, edging along the border of black and green. 

We kept driving. 

The less you look, the less you saw. 

There were five eyes in the bounding twist of metal, so we saw a lot. 

There were single blades that poked and pruned at the puffs of white that hung overhead. 

(Come on, raindrops, I dare ya!)

The willows and oaks cared not. 

There were jays and ravens and woodpeckers, all vying for Mother Sky.

The blades of green and brown cared not. 

There were tall and short brown arms that groped at the swooping feathered meals in the air, who dared each other to dodge the crumpled metal fiend, that edged along at 30 mph in pure awe of the silent synchronicity of the road around us. 

The blue jays and ravens cared not. 

We kept driving. 

Shadow to the right, the universe before us. 

We kept driving. 

A sign that read "This area prone to flooding" grew towards us out of the ripple of distance, 

then shrank into the scenery-- our only reminder that this place exists. 

A crow rested on it. 

Suddenly, mounds of grey swept like plague over the horizon. 

They were tall and flat and angular and mean. 

The blades of green tried to run. 

The willow and oaks had already fled. 

Green bled into brown. 

Which bled into black. 

We kept driving. 

The birds turned mean

and fell back.

They could see, but not be seen,

For their skins were black.  

We were the front line-- a bounded, twisted fiend--

But we kept driving. 

The wave of tall angles surged forward, washing the black and green and brown to nothing.

Now, tall cubes scraped the sky 

(Come on, raindrops, I double dare ya!)

More twisted fiends bounded down the Line. 

We kept driving. 

Then, Halt! shouts the Red Eye. 

We halt. 

It winks an eel's green wink, 

And we kept driving. 

Reviews

[flyingdreams]

good one........ keep going