34

Head out of the parking lot
sitting on cold upholstered leather
down and up hill through
the almost empty streets
out to open country
the mostly straight road
a quarter hour or so
all the way down to the
flatlands near the river

Great place for thinking
no radio, no music
just time to muse
time for lucid driving
lucidity driven by piercing
soft diamond stars above
through the moon roof™
met by pairs of bright ogre eyes
or billygoats gruff — either way
fanciful, saucerful, amusing.

Spreading out:
branches on the invisible trees
by the side of the roads we travel

Coming together:
seeds putting down roots to grow
and live and so we did
brought our acts to the stage
energized cold white pages
and with flesh in costumes
makeup bathed in light
larger than life we lived.

So brief the moment
so soft the stars shining
on the stage voices lifted
in the sky on the way
home.

Note: 34 is a local county road that runs south through Alexandria to the St. Lawrence River. I wrote this poem the day after adjudicating the school district drama festival there.

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About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/wordcurrents/ Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
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