The Interstate

Well-wishers always  
look you in the eye  
when  
you see them at your  
stops:  
gas stations,  
diners,  
country stores with souvenirs.  
 
In that glimpse you can see them for what they are.  
Fellow passengers on this  
road of life,  
but there’s something...sedentary  
  about them.  
 
You know the road  
intimately.  
You sup on asphalt——to them it’s just a snack.  
 
Its curves are more familiar  
to you than the woman  
in your bed.  
 
The midnight serpent sparkles  
in a way the stars  
could only dream.  
 
Every passing mile  
     marker waves you on, cheering…  
smiling its green smile.  
 
Exit, ¾ of a mile.  
For food.  
Or a restroom, or even a warm bed,  
 
but always only temporary.  
 
The road,  
she awaits,  
she beckons you.  
 
She is your one true love,  
 
you'll always return to her.  
 
(From Road Trip Comp)