The Desert


A wide open road, no beginning, no end takes me for a ride with my dear friend.
There are trees, though all dead and sand: a brilliant color of red
It is quiet at day, only the buzz of flies to annoy, clinging to sweat as it dries.
Onward we go, making such haste, the sun sinking, little time does it waste.
And soon it is dark, the presence of night, brings many creatures, who were afraid of light.
The kangaroos, they jump, taunting our car, pausing only to glance, but from afar.
The cows meander, without worry or care, it is a wonder, do they just play dare?
Still onward we go, under a sheet of stars, gleaming down upon us, as if they're just ours.
The wide open road, as flat as can be, with only a middle that we can see.
Takes us for a ride these lazy days, where time seems to stop, and where no ones stays...
Save for the few, who cherish a slow mode, or perhaps are intrigued by the wide open road.

{January 2005, Outback, Australia. On the road from Adelaide to Ayers Rock I wrote the poem, Matt took the photo.}