Looks like the road ends up ahead or never ends
after years of bends and bends and bends and bends and . . .
they never seem to end, but up ahead, there are no more bends.
Cliff top, mountain edge, line where hawks and vultures fly—
You are driving, or am I? We are up so high,
restless. It feels so very reckless to be alone
where air is thin enough to make breath an effort.
Looks like the road could end or never stop
and guardrails are missing all round the top.
I'm scared to look but train my eyes and keep my head
You are driving, or is no one at the wheel?
Going among the hawks as quickly as we can.
My blog poems are rough drafts.
Please respect my copyright.
If you quote, credit this page.
© 2020 Susan L. Chast
This is beautiful. I think we need to keep our eyes trained on the sky and our hopes as high as possible.......I was away from the news for a few days and CANT BELIEVE the difference in outlook. Smiles. I LOVE your beautiful poem. Love the hawks.
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