My Road

There are no phone poles where I drive. No wires stretched across the roads, crisscrossing the blue dome above and making it seem so much less majestic then it should be.

There are no buildings on my way, no towers to obscure my view of the sky. The only stone I see is natural, boulders and gravel. The only monoliths are the long standing sentinels we call trees.

The land is flat and I can see for miles in all directions, granted I can find a path through the trees. There is corn growing to the right and a purple colored grass growing in the ditches amongst the cattails.

There are no other cars in the middle of the day. All is quiet save for the sound of my music and the soft hum of my tires on the pavement. No bumps, no potholes, no speed limit.

At night I can see all the stars out the windows, or overhead if I pull over and sit on the trunk of my car. The breeze is sweet and the wind is soft, tossing an occasional leaf my way.

There is no other traffic, no other form of life like mine.

There is just me, my car, and my road.