Blue Highway Poem by Ima Ryma

It is a nice and sunny day.
I'm listening to the radio
While driving down a rural highway.
Then as around a curve I go,
I notice the highway is blue.
Should I pull over or go on?
I'm really not sure what to do,
A very strange phenomenon.
I cautiously do drive ahead,
Come to a truck on the roadside,
Broken barrels on the truck bed,
An answer to the blue supplied.

The blue highway, not by design,
A truck had spilled blueberry wine.