I am a poem from this side of the states to t’other
Map-scratch these lines and find your trails rugged
With these words, I declare them satisfaction in roads mid-construction
Highways heaved of trees; I am progress—if poetry
Moves forward—I am the windshield protecting inspiration
From misfortune’s wind and ambitious stones.
Thumbs out! Or clutching nubs once pencils. I am
Poetry where I stand or wherever I once stood. Come
Lace-up with me some afternoon baked in the mountainside
I am poetry aching for a destination, for it is destiny
Sending me to you.