THE HIGHWAYS OF OUR PAST (original poem)Jul 20 '00 Write an essay on this topic.THE HIGHWAYS OF OUR PAST In this, the age of interstates, We've traded slow for fast And seldom take the time to drive The highways of our past: Where barn roofs pitched Rock City, Mail Pouch, and Mammoth Cave; And batches of those roadside signs Held verse by Burma Shave. Where the route was shaded, here and there, By canopies of trees; Where lines of clothes by simple homes Were blowing in the breeze. Where a family's own produce Was sold to passers-by; And barefoot children ran with kites To launch them towards the sky. Where the place you chose for dinner Could be called "one-of-a-kind;" Where the road spread out before you Had a gentle, scenic wind. Where a rolling, sun-kissed valley Could be viewed from mountain ridge; And men and boys were fishing From a singing metal bridge. Where folks not only filled your car But cleaned your windshield, too; And wildflowers shone and sparkled In the early-morning dew. Where firefly stars surrounded you When you drove in the night; Where trees and graveyards took an eerie look In full moonlight. So take a little time out When you need not go so fast To drive, with gentle thoughtfulness, The highways of our past. Due to that thing we call "progress," Some of what once was is gone, But, in many ways, on these roads A simpler time lives on. Ainsley Jo Phillips In the 1992 Indiana Federation of State Poetry Clubs Fall Rendezvous Contest, the above poem received: Category #8 Glenna Glee Award First Honorable Mention and was then printed in my chapbook, A TALE OF FIVE AUTUMNS, Copyright 1994 by Ainsley Jo Phillips. Many such warm, magical places as I've written about in this poem can still be found, if you just take the time to leave the fast-lane and seek them out. Happy road-tripping! :o)  |
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