I Change Lanes Poem by Sheila Bello

In the autumn of my existence
I change lanes and exit from the highway
onto a less busy side road.

Growing weary,
and infused with wisps of melancholy
I drive slowly, pausing intermittently
to abandon by the wayside
some unrequited dreams
that have gathered dust and rust.
Logic, intuition and instinct
tell me they no longer have merit
and should be replaced.

In my rear-view mirror,
fleeting landscapes vanish.
Other sights appear in my radar
as I drive along.