Thursday, April 24, 2014

Alone on the Road Headed Home

Hours to sift through the memories
Like photos in boxes
Faded as old Kodachrome, dogeared
Images too precious, too painful, to be examined in public
Waves of warm melancholy, serene and familiar
To accompany the night

No need to explain the laughter
No reason to speak to the tears
Just let them flow, interchangeably
And drive

Or hours to put the boxes away
Set all thought aside for the ride
Retreat from the memories, surrender
And merely follow the highway

Focused only on white lines and the orderly flow of traffic
Shut off but for the occasional shadow
Or courteous flash of running lights
Sparse encounters, forgettable
But just enough to break the hypnosis of turn signals
And the soothing monotony of mile markers


Fontinalis Rising said...

That is beautiful my friend.

Mike Sepelak said...

Thanks, Jason. A bit dark, I suppose, but sometimes...

Hope said...

Beautiful. You're a very gifted man.

Mike Sepelak said...

Thank you, Hope, but "gifted" only in that I have been given many wonderful gifts in my lifetime. I am a fortunate soul.

Anonymous said...

Always a great pleasure to visit your blog Mike...I agree with "Hope"'re a gifted and talented man (:

Mike Sepelak said...

And it's always a treat to hear from you too, JP! It's a joy to have such far-flung friends. This sport, and this medium, have provided me some wonderful fishin' buddies, whether we've shared a stream or not. Someday, perhaps...