The open road will remind us of many things
some of which are inessential, or unkind toward
the planned itinerary. Still, they take their time
and their place: consider the young couple behind us,
unmarried, with a small child, getting drunk
at 10:30 am across from the county fairgrounds
where the carnival rides are unfolding; or rather...
the distant sheep, the sagebrush, the hay
baled in a still-green field across this brown valley—
the stalwart waters and regrettable commerce
of machines, plants and mills all seeming to happen
by the lone emigrant grave in a lessened way.
We struggle with what we allow to bother us
and what does not. We tip the waitress and move on.
rdking