Coast to Coast
The bird that shook the earth at J.F.K.
goes Blind to milkweed, riverbanks, the wrecks
of elm trees full of liquor and decay-
and jars the earth again at L.A.X.
Once, on two-lane roads, our crazy drives
across the country tallied every mile
in graves or gardens: glimpses in our lives
to make the busy continent worthwhile.
Friendly orchards out to praries, then to cactus,
the rock and mud and clay were in our bones:
as birches turned to oak, then eucalyptus,
we learned our lover's body stone by stone.
Now, going home we're blind again, seven
miles above the earth on chartered wings:
in a pressurized and air-conditioned heaven
the open road's a song nobody sings.
goes Blind to milkweed, riverbanks, the wrecks
of elm trees full of liquor and decay-
and jars the earth again at L.A.X.
Once, on two-lane roads, our crazy drives
across the country tallied every mile
in graves or gardens: glimpses in our lives
to make the busy continent worthwhile.
Friendly orchards out to praries, then to cactus,
the rock and mud and clay were in our bones:
as birches turned to oak, then eucalyptus,
we learned our lover's body stone by stone.
Now, going home we're blind again, seven
miles above the earth on chartered wings:
in a pressurized and air-conditioned heaven
the open road's a song nobody sings.