Poem: Do you really expect me to just drive?

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How’s a girl supposed to get anywhere around here?
With hills that dance off to the left for a hundred miles
Can the sky really be that blue
Or is that my sunglasses?
No, it’s true!
With clouds that puff, and swirl and sway
The sun’s changing angles a psychedelic display
The whole cast deserves a standing ovation
That fill me with expletives and elation
I gotta budget extra time to arrive
With such a show as this
Do you really expect me to just drive?


About the poem:
I’m a tourist in my own home, after being out of the country so much the previous few years. I am floored by the view. And yes, I do need to add in time to just pull the car over, and exclaim (to no one) in cursing and cliches and take some pictures. I can barely stand it!

 

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