Family · Nature · Poetry · travel

Splattered on my Windshield

Giant windmills by the Columbia

Slowly doing the breaststroke,

Over rolling buff hills that are sunning

Past town after town and its townsfolk.

Truck trailers, travel trailers,

Zipping past chugging railers.

Dams and rest stops, hot springs and buttes,

Punctuate stories of curses and Aslan

Tumnus, and horses and wardrobes of fur

Grip us, spellbound, unfolding The Plan.

Truck trailers, travel trailers,

Zipping past chugging railers.

Travel mug is choke full of husks

Of sunflower seeds the driver ate.

Smeared across my once clear windshield

Many a bug has met its fate.

Truck trailers, travel trailers,

Zipping past chugging railers.

Mile after mile till you’re numb at the hip

Book two is over, it’s time for a flip

Day-dreaming, mindlessly eating my dip

What a fantastic Memorial Day trip. splatterhttps://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/buff/

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “Splattered on my Windshield

  1. Thanks for the ride-along… I so relate to the trucks, trailers, chugging railers, spitting sunflower seed shells and numb bum on those long trips! 🙂 I often have read aloud 6 or 7 hours out of 9, while my husband drives. Life in the Pacific NW … it’s grand! 🙂

    1. 6 or 7 hours?! (That’s one of my favorite exclamations. It’s called an interrobang.) That’s hardcore. I can’t read in the car to save my life. What a fun pastime. Thanks for riding along.

      1. Yeah, well… it is grueling to the throat for sure! Your term “hardcore” is apt. My voice is not as good when I arrive as when we left home, let me tell you! Ha!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s