Getting Away

Some wilderness. We're stopped in traffic almost at
The timberline with everybody else from Denver,
Throngs of latter-day Thoreaus in gridlock, breathing
Diesel fumes. That's what mountain air is now.
We'll exit soon to reach our condo, bicycle across
The highway for a pizza and some beer,
The mountains looming overhead a backdrop,
Barely there at all, as what we'd planned to leave
Engulfs us on the streets below.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 108 times
Written on 2018-07-23 at 14:11

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