The Wayfarer’s Prayer

Two hundred and fifty kilometres
time flies when you’re having none
burger grease on the steering wheel
skirting the edge of waking vacancy
stay in your lane
be on your way
the hypnosis of blank midnight roads
singing sweetly of peace and warmth
slow orange glow spreading over you
fog lights burning like lonely campfires
stay in your lane
be on your way
as navigation leans toward negation
dead ends hide around every bend
when the suddenly thundering semi
rattles you back to shaken vigilance
stay in your lane
be on your way
and bring yourself back home again.

9 thoughts on “The Wayfarer’s Prayer

  1. I lpve the beginning of this so Much. It’s so relatable. I have driven in that sleepy stupor. I dropped crumbs, spilled coffee, staining freshly washed seats and shirts. Sleepy and unaware, trying to come to. Driving in the early morning rush to get nowhere but somewhere all the same.

    Liked by 1 person

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