The interstate highway, a long time foe,
stretching out lives behind until they bend
and break, now acts as my closest friend,
bearing upon its back my whole life.
She rushes through green valleys with black floors
toward me to the rhythm of broken lines
that running by, are reflected in the
windshield and, receding, are seen no more.
Arteries of this new long-distance land,
the highways quicken that sadistic thief,
Time, and make Him rush before.
They burn a path to my heart that I cannot
forget—a path, though thronged with feet so thick,
that brings my love and life unto my door.