The Same Old Road
The Same Old Road
Photo by Mike Hall
The Same Old Road
It is the same old road,
mile after mile,
with or without the windows down,
even as the kind and name of the road changes
from a two-lane county road to a five-lane one-way
thoroughfare, because it’s the path from
where you are and where you think you are going,
and we never seem to stop.
Except when we are about to run out of gas,
and like a video game, we get a boost of more energy
to continue on our way.
When the path is the same, the trip is not the same since it is
a different day, different people driving, and a thousand
other variables you can not control.
One thing stays the same. It is the same old road.
This poem was written after we took “the long way home” from a weekend camping retreat at a nearby park in the Indianapolis area, and took the county, country roads where corn filled the fields until we reached the outskirts of the city. It was good to have a detailed Indiana map with us, but I don’t think we could ever get lost for any length of time. We completed our objective- to get home, one way or another.