You Just Missed It

Speeding north on I-87 any
early autumn afternoon,
you could feel the thip thip thip
of the tar strips tickling
your tires and toes,
if you really paid attention.
But you were more concerned
with what you left behind in that mirror
and with that tossing of red light
rosary beads surrounding you.
The trees to your left and right flash
like a natural zoetrope, animating
an unnoticed world as you pass.

You don’t see the geese lighting
with a sun splash on the Mohawk.
You could never imagine the little girl
sitting alone in that shabby house
you just passed hoping her mom
gets home from work by 10:30.
If you looked to your right,
you might have seen those puppies
that escaped their yard, bumbling
and yipping through the brush
heading for the same roadside that
browsing deer on the opposite side
consider crossing to after sundown.
You just missed it because you wondered
if pizza or chicken waited home for you.

Shared with my friends at dVerse Poets Pub.

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12 thoughts on “You Just Missed It

  1. Terrific poem, rocked the prompt, brother, & yet, when we were not retired, we had to drive intensely focused, charged with alacrity, to deal with the traffic stresses & the possible idiots who would cause accidents. Sometimes on road trips or daily journeys to the mountains or ocean, if I’m not driving, I stare at those passing houses, barns, garages, sheds–& I really wonder what stories, novels, poems, & soap operas could be told from & about them.

  2. Call me a dangerous driver, but I always crane my neck to look at the houses (especially if they are lit up and I can see inside) or landscapes or a monument or an animal… Perhaps I should be a passenger rather than a driver. Great poem, exactly the kind of sentiment that painting inspires in me…

  3. When i take photos i do look back to treasure the moment i did live then.. and then to let it go..for more images of life.. treasure.. photo.. treasure photo.. repeat life again and again..

    And poetry is an art that does take us there.. to see in the minds more true.. of how different and similar all folks are across the globe…

    On the highway of life.. the paths are many.. but it is the connections small and large…

    that to me truly do make life worth living…

    And poetry does bring life out.. to the most robotic.. of hearts dying.. in life.. to live once again..as life….connecting…..life.

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