35 hours
Down a long road
Is what I’d need to cure this pain
Across the water
Through the rainforest
Rolling hills
Mountain passes
Plains
Careening down divided highways
Bridging this great divide
Stopping only for fuel, food
Sleeping at cheap motels that hum
With the throb of 18 wheelers
35 hours of swallowing miles
To swallow my heart
Which seems to be in my throat
Or on my sleeve
This condition won’t respond to ace inhibitors
But needs a laying on of hands
To cure
Hands that are
35 long hours away
David Trudel © 2012