Query
by David Ackley
How many times have I made this trip
from mountains to town and back again
layering minutes on miles while the road which is the past
is swallowed in the mirror and another layer of future gets painted
under the wheels and I am only this plane of the present flat and thin
as a negative in black and white bearing this image
which keeps changing, changing and is nothing but same?
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Author's Note
A time trap.
Other stories by David Ackley
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David: a fine illustration of the persistence of "Die Zwischenwelt" (singular, or someone knowing German would have to supply the plural) we are obliged to occupy, frame by frame.
Si, oui, ja, da, and yes.
And so, we all must trip.*
I don't hate The Eagles quite as much as the Dude did, but I wish I could get that earworm out before the sound of their damned wheels drives me crazy. Inadvertently this intricately questing poem transported me to just outside Winslow, Arizona, and...
Excellent.
Lovely work. *
Thanks for the kind responses, Edward, Tim, Mathew, Jill and Rachna. Glad you all like it...
"another layer of future gets painted
under the wheels"
Nice idea!
Enjoyed.
Thanks Gary, Bill and the "Secret Santa," who messages me, all much appreciated.