Michigan March

 

MICHIGAN MARCH

I travel as if led
across the great girth
of mid America
moving over asphalt
overhung with sky
about to burst
Listening
to an old rhythm
a salesman's song
rubbery, elastic
Remembering the feel of wheels
and the bump of the back seat
as my father
drove to another dream
always only an exit away

Do all America's children
hear the road sing?
Or just those immigrant souls
on whom another map
was traced
until chance,
ever beckoning
collided with hope
and a sea was sewn shut
sealing memory
around a hub
fastened with a cap,
shiny,
whitewalled,
road ready
ever,
road ready