Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Travel Directions

by Joan I. Siegel

There ought to be a word
for the way you know how to get some place
but don't remember the names of streets
the number of turns and blinking yellow lights
so that if someone asked
you really couldn't say

except you know the road starts out straight
and when it's sunny the branches blink across
the windshield making you want to rub your eyes
then the road turns sharply uphill past a red barn
where a black dog jumps out to race you for a quarter mile
and finally recedes in the mirror like a disappointment
and you remember the road dips downhill
into the shadows of the morning
where you hear Bach's unaccompanied 'cello
and understand what a good fit the 'cello makes
in the hollow of the body
where grief begins and for an indeterminate time
the road winds vaguely past
houses people road signs
while time hums in your ear and you remember
the dream you left behind that morning
which had nothing
to do with where
you are going


please note: art by Traci Hegleson, Patterson Road Barn

6 comments:

  1. Oh....it is a metaphor for life, right? I never really know where I am going when I wake up....I have plans, don't get me wrong, but they never seem to materialize. thank you for both verse and image...smiles.

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  2. This poem dovetails very nicely with the work I have been doing with hypnotherapy and the life of the unconscious. I like it a lot.

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  3. The painting is perfect company for the poem, both are dreamlike... you have cast another magic spell here

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  4. Wonderful painting and great poem.

    Owen mentioned your blog to me and I figured you'd enjoy seeing an Aussie magpie on my blog today. Come on over to see it if you have time! Cheers

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  5. Life has a funny way of taking you somewhere you never expected.

    Thanks for another beautiful poem.

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  6. Oh, I loved this poem! I never know the names of streets! xoxo

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Hey, thanks for your thoughts and your time:>)