The Spaces in Between

 
The drive back from the beach
Took us through the mountains
A long winding, curvy path
The views…green and lush
And high
High enough to look down the edgy cliffs
So high I could feel the glutes tighten

At the bottom of the foothill
The highway straightened a little more
And once on the open road
She added speed

Passing the through farms
The orchards
The groves
For miles and miles
    or kilometers wherever you may be
They seemed to go on forever
And at high speeds it gave me a new perspective

Then I thought…
How many hours?
How many farm workers must work on these lands?

She was booking it
At 90
     or 145 wherever you may be
(She drives fast, but I hold my tongue)
I could see the spaces in between the orange trees
Seamless rows aligned
And for some reason
I found a strange beauty in that symmetry
 
Then I thought…
How many farm workers walk in the spaces in between?