The Open Road

The Open Road is a COVID-era poem, specifically from the pre-vaccine part of the COVID era. I guess, technically, we are still in the COVID era, though we prefer to call it the post-COVID era now, since we are past the peak (and let’s hope there isn’t another peak in our future).

It was written at that point in time where I think we all went a little bit off-kilter. Some more than others, but all were thrown at least a bit off-stride. We questioned things we’d never thought we would question. Should I wear gloves to pump gas? Will a mask help me or help those around me? Do I wipe down my groceries with sanitizing wipes, or not? Am I safer in the home or outside it? Is this thing airborne or what?

In the midst of this, and in the couple of years following, I made a few car trips across the US. Some to help a kid move to/from the eastern part of the US to the western for a summer job. Some for vacation, once it became clear that being outdoors actually was pretty safe.

The Open Road
–Kearney, Nebraska

The open road holds court there,
whether you arrive or not.
And yes, someone said stay home,

but did you think that meant hide
behind drawn curtains, afraid of sun?
Did it mean, don’t get in your car, don’t

drive seventy-eight miles to Ogallala
to see the lake? What did the lake & road
& sunshine do to deserve your fear?

Nothing. Of course, nothing.
And brittle wind whooshing over
the interstate, through open car windows

never asked for your praise.
Risks are risks: walking, breathing,
bothering with the sunset.

Every truck stop sports a shard of glass.
Let caution & fear & resentment
be flung, furled, hurled, hefted off

to wherever the road enlists you,
deploys you. Where budding clouds
shine white and gray over clover grass.

If you had told me some years ago that I would know the various ways from Ohio to Salt Lake City or Denver as well as I know the way from Ohio to Washington D.C., I’d have laughed. If you had told me that I would know the best place to stay in Ogallala and where to get a great Mexican dinner there, I would have laughed even harder. Joke’s on me, though.

Sidenote: some of the busiest national parks were completely empty during COVID. It was amazing to be able to drive up, park, and hike around in solitude in places that, usually, are busier than ant hills.

Second sidenote: That was when it occurred to me that it would be great if all our politicians, at federal and state levels, would be required to take a couple weeks driving tour around the US, seeing all kinds of places they had never seen. I still think that would be a great idea.