The Perfect Road  

By David Eide  

The perfect road is straight with a light grade  running up near the horizon.
A river glints by it and two perfect farmhouses pass, recently painted red and black.
The geology breaks open just enough to get curious about it. 
Birds fly in formation over the dark ribbon of road peeling off left and right.
The river comes from the mountain; its history is twelve thousand years old.
A sudden expanse illuminates the fragment of our destination. 

How vain we are!

Back to Poetry Page
Back to