Skyline Driver Recollections

The violets grew in
The stillness of thousands
In elevation

The sky hung blue

We trusted in the road and
The Heat like Innocents

Gasping at architecture, to
Make something more of
Something Past

It was intended
And that, to be
All intended

AS it is even in the structure
Of roadways and held-back
Rock faces

In Colonial Overtones
And that ineffable sadness
Of Regions
Higher than that three-crossed
Which made perfect sense then
And then and Now.

~ it comes in threes ~

Up there the violets and
The rigs with Tennessee plates
Appeared wanting for breath
And tho' not April Then,
It is Now.

The pick-up truck
Sported a window sticker
A Flag
And lauded, as is

Someone rode these peaks
And claimed and lost and yes,
Still men wear it proudly
Why else ~~

The violets shudder in
The passing breath of a
Truck bound for Mobile.

As is.