Lost Highway Wondering

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"Blueberry Highway, Dogtown"
Marsden Hartley via Wikimedia Commons

There is a line in the sun
As the crack in an egg
I am wandering the interstate
Walking on tired legs
With dreams as diesel gasoline
A glow plug in my chest
My thumb pointed west

The earth is round
Or is it Flat?
Yet, I am trying to escape
From the gravitational pull
That is reality and truth
I am hoping to hitch a ride
To replant my roots
To go somewhere magical
Somewhere magical
I am hoping to hide
From what is eventual

The scars that I carry
Are just another story
That will never be told
While the cars passing by
Sound as ocean waves
Breaking onto the road
It reminds me when
We were walking on a Mexico beach
The sun glittering in your eyes
As disco balls over a dance floor
We put shells to our ears
And listened for the rush of traffic
Pleasure as drift wood
Within our longing reach
I kissed your cheek
Your skin came alive
As though snails crawled inside
Just like the cars passing by
Along the autumn highway
As bees flying to the hive
Your sweat was honey to me

The concrete is a vibrant stage
When you get out of your car and walk
The clouds as sponges
Hover in the distance
Absorbing the light rays
Orange, red and violet plasma
Appear to be leaking from a wound
Spilling out onto the body of the earth
In a rhythmic pulse
From the uneven horizon line
That resembles a scar

The mountains in the distance
Look jagged and old
They are colored black and white
As the teeth of a wolf
In the bottom half of a Jaw
Biting into the flesh of the sky
Making it bleed
Making it bleed
Like my feet
Like my heart

The leaves are all blonde
Glowing in the trees
Reminds me of your hair
Flowing in a breeze
As we chased and traced
Our footprints in the sand
Running along the shoreline
Never discovering the end
Our night on the Sayulita bay
Our flesh as water
Spilling over onto each other
The expanse above a glittering parade
We listened to the ocean waves
The surf serenaded us
With a lullaby and a kiss
Your lips made me suspend
Reason in favor of the sublime
We were free from the flavor of time
Our bungalow oasis

I look into the unknown
I lose my balance as though
The ground has fallen up
I am cold and I am lost
The vast blue yonder
Warms me as a blanket
I wonder about all the moments
When I would look into your eyes
They would widen as the Big Montana sky
Ripple and sparkle
As a river passing by
A river passing by
Whenever you look at me
When you used to look at me
My Alexandria
My Antiquity
When you look at me

The light descends
As the glowing moon ascends
Suspended over dusks highway bleeding
It looks as if a gold coin
Was misplaced in the ether
Or a tarnished copper penny
Burnt by the sun
I want to put it into my pocket for good luck
To remind me of the autumn days
Where the leaves the color of your hair
Fell from the trees
As the dreams falling from my mind
Time falling from the mountains
Your touch as water
Falling from my fingers.

Originally from Chicago, Douglas S. Hall lives in Denver currently and used to live in the mountains. Writing has been a fun creative outlet for Hall, as is fly fishing.