He slammed the hood down,
was like a judge with a gavel.
I felt the tug of my string—
beginning to unravel.
Attendant started to sing,
as my tires spun gravel.
Down the dark way—
I began to travel.
What does one say
to oneself on the way
of an uncertain journey
down a desert highway.
How does one hide
from those things on the side
of a lonely dark
highway night ride.
Maynard Hartman
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-vagueness-of-night-travel/
