Like an army general on parade
reviewing the troops in the convoy
tooling down the highway into battle
I drove by the armada of trucks, working soldiers
Marching down the black asphalt
to toil in the fields of corporate battle,
almost watching for the salute,
as their driver’s heads turned left
Rolling stone, a flatbed trailer towed by a dump truck
a frozen army of roaming cornerstones
lined up in neat ordered rows
like soldiers in the D-Day landing craft
or those unearthed Chinese terracotta army men
with stories to tell of their exploits
if we could only hear the whispers of stone
That truck was in pursuit of an 18-wheeler hauling square pipe
and an asphalt tanker truck, carrying the new road with him, and
countless lesser support vehicles,
with their wares emblazoned on the sides,
banners held high of their regiments and their causes,
like the charges in Civil War reenactments.
A division of brothers in arms
making fast for their destination
each morning on the highway heading east
September 5, 2005 21:52 (about my ride to work on the morning on Auust 23, 2005, on Rte 101 Eastbound in NH, around exit 4)
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at
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