November Road

November road is less taken,
baked slate gray with snakes
(thinnest tar) winding aimless
filling cracks from sun and traffic…
ugly road fraught with holes
challenged by dog-eat dog
today, more than the lane
of easy-does-it
or with a roadside lemonade,
where sipping in a summer breeze
makes one complacent,
filled with ease…
no, November Road
is taxing psyche
ego leveling
straining muscles hibernating,
(maple leafs turned orange
  and yellow, flattened by
  the weight of Goodyear,
  glistening in sunshine water),
life’s arena vans and pickups
hurrying the westward walkers
or the squirrels in search
of living
stopping quickly in the middle…
November Road is full of
anchors
left to set by fear
and sloth, or the lack
of motivation, wherein
furry rodents
falter.


32 Lines
Writer’s Cramp Winner
11-6-19