This Particular Stretch

A stretch towards
the sky, with outstretched
arms
or, a stretch of highway, leading
from here to there, but not
back again,
I’ve followed the arrows,
my whole life,
turn here, left and straight
no right turn on red,
no purpose, no future
“You aren’t destined to go that way”
What my course should be, had been
should have been, never was to be,
running tried and true
the arrow pointed, the weather vane
swung, from side to side
North is it today?
Or, south maybe, or not that girl
but this one, not that way,
not that direction,
she went her way, and I
I went along a multitude of paths
roads, country, city, freeways
traveling slow, then fast,
the miles become years,
become tears, cried for those
who turned, or stopped
before I did,
Why this stretch of road, why now
and not yesterday, what will tomorrow
bring, a rest area, the waitress
looks good in her uniform,
covered with arrows, it was
destined to confuse, or delight
turn here, not there,
Going for a ride, Mister?
Can I ride with you?
On the road again, alone or with
those who are traveling
in the same direction, turning
stopping, when they wish, not
telling me, asking me, pleading with me
to hitch a ride, a lifetime stretch
a lonely road
along this particular stretch of the highway,

called life..

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