country roads

“There are songs that come free from the blue-eyed grass, from the dust of a  
thousand country roads. This is one of them.”  —Robert James Waller  
 
 
Christ!  
the city is killing me!  
her walls are fingers  
at my throat,  
like the gloat  
of vile harbingers—  
daily die i to be free.  
heist  
 
mobs  
hem me in on every side,  
police sirening  
through the night,  
peace in flight,  
wild children screaming  
where they yesterday would ride.  
sobs  
 
blend  
into every living pulse  
that rocks my body,  
packed to go  
where i know  
time takes custody  
when the strains of life convulse.  
lend  
 
flight  
to my weary, broken wings;  
let sweet country roads  
take me home:  
honeycomb  
bees make their abodes  
where the soft blue jasmine sings  
night  
 
songs,  
peaceful skies to lullaby.  
guarded by the moon,  
there no gun  
makes the sun  
dread the next day's noon,  
or the nightingale to fly.  
wrongs  
 
melt  
in the fragrant country breeze;  
neighbours' eyes wear smiles.  
for the tears  
and the cares  
each man reconciles,  
whose heart has God's Ease  
felt.  
 
© Copyright 2021 January 28  
by Clyve A. Bowen♫