Sometimes when the wind shifts

and the denouement of the drive

awakens us to other roads left

unexplored, a kind of sadness 

descends on the journey. This one

road upon which the gravitas of

grace spreads out long and lavish,

leads to lost places;

corridors of corruption,

alleyways of dreams,

aborted or forgotten, lanes of

loneliness, streams of sadness.

In their ditches of dread we find them,

hiding from the obvious, oblivious

to all that lay before them. Some

roads only appeared once they were

needed but quickly disappeared once

taken. It is then we kick

open the passenger door, deeply

dented and dusty from the drive, and

offer sojourn-solace on

the back roads of heaven.

Photo taken by me on a back roads trip in Washington State, October 2014