Roads Poem by Lynne RBC

I have driven
this too familiar road
countless times before
but today
I found my grip
on the wheel
strange.
Funny,
when this road bears
much too happy memories
I wonder why,
this day, of all days,
the wind is bashing a painful cold,
the sky - a tint darker,
the horns blowing a pitch lower.
It must be the rain
but I know
it isn't.

There is something blurry
how this old road
seems shorter
today.
Maybe it's my speed,
the thoughtless gaps,
the timeless lapse.
Maybe it's you and me
driving together the same path
alone
apart
with nothing but mirrors
to bear witness
the silent exchange of
passions of our hearts,
too intense, I fear,
I could hear them break
with us.
Or maybe because
I know, too well,
too soon
too abruptly
we are bound to take this
intersection

separately.