Copyright 2019 by Kenneth Van Camp, all rights reserved.
Time is marked by crossings and towns.
Check the traffic, watch for construction,
Miles click by, exits count down.
Sailing across the cerulean sea,
Passing clouds, meandering sun.
Distance is measured in waves and tacks.
Each one crawls by, each mile hard won.
A meeting of the sun and sky
Where different shades of blue may blend,
It's hard to see where one begins
And where the other one will end.
The car can go anywhere's a road,
Not beyond, and not between.
Given my druthers, I'd use a rudder.
