SLOW DANCING ON THE HIGHWAY:
the Trip North
You follow close behind me,
for a thousand miles responsive to my movements.
I signal, you signal back. We will meet at the next exit.
You blow kisses, which I return.
You mouth "I love you," a message for my rearview mirror.
We do a slow tango as we change lanes in tandem,
gracefully, as though music were guiding us.
It is tighter than bodies locked in heat,
this caring, this ardent watching.
— Elizabeth Hobbs
from Poems from the Lake, Goose River Press, 2001
whose most recent book is "A Craving for the Goatman,"
Goose River Press, 2003
What a marvelous gift is the imagination,
and each of us gets one at birth,
free of charge and ready to start up,
get on, and ride away.
~ Ted Kooser