The Long Drive

Squealing wheels
The rubber hugs the road.

Accelerator depressed,
Roaring engine of internal combustion.

Pumping pistons within cylinders of gasoline.
Windows open, but so slightly.

Time is of no meaning,
Life measures in miles.

Winding curves outlined in white.
Divided by double yellow.

A long drive invigorates the soul.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s