On the road to Old Las Vegas the sun disappeared
the clouds moved in, the highway stretched taut
as the trees shivered, shuddered.
Our windows pearled and iced in the heat
and the water drummed wet and sultry:
outside it lashed and inside calmed, quieted.
The mountains laughed a deep rocky rumble
a primordial ancient sound lazy and slow tethered;
and bottled and pungent smells like animals' blood
rose with the steam on the road curdling
and twisting through the vents and metallic cracks.
The thunder god tapped his fingers while we watched
eyes wide, and childlike mouths clouding gray
the slippery glass; he smiled rueful as it passed--
the summer storm, our tires sending silvered spray
into the checkered wilderness that stretched long away
into the chalky hills.
How can I improve this?
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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awesome
line 1 and 2 least favorite parts, i just want some points. way better than i -
I was instantly reminded of Kate Wolf when I read this piece. The sense of place is vivid as is the feeling of wonder and a certain coziness of knowing you are reasonably safe in the car. I was a little mystified by the placement of the words "and bottled".
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Hi, S, thank you for your read and comment. I appreciate it. There was a really quick edit that happened the other day on this, and I overlooked "and bottled," so thank you for drawing that to my attention. I'll work around with it, hopefully, sometime in the near future.
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i love that it has this rustic feeling, again as i read from one of your poems, it's a different kind of rural dimension from what i know of as our countryside... i'm just wondering though the connection of the tires leaving an imprint "into the chalky hills" and why it comes after the storm?
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Thanks for your read and comment. The part you pointed out is just imagery; the geography of the state I live in is very fickle and changes nearly constantly. Even the rain is fleeting. In one spot it could be pelting and in the next there is not even a hint of water. The trees come right up to the highway, as well, so even though we've cut through them we leave them something as we pass. That's all.
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brilliant!
"The mountains laughed a deep rocky rumble"
The imagery is great in this poem! loved it
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Thank you very much. I hadn't looked at this in a long time. I'm glad it's still relevant. I appreciate your time taken to read and comment!
Nienna
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