He slammed the hood down, <br />was like a judge with a gavel. <br />I felt the tug of my string— <br />beginning to unravel. <br /> <br />Attendant started to sing, <br />as my tires spun gravel. <br />Down the dark way— <br />I began to travel. <br /> <br />What does one say <br />to oneself on the way <br />of an uncertain journey <br />down a desert highway. <br /> <br />How does one hide <br />from those things on the side <br />of a lonely dark <br />highway night ride.<br /><br />Maynard Hartman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-vagueness-of-night-travel/
