Frisco
The roadway lines flicker slower with every mile,
merging to create a single streak down the triangle.
Time to look away.
I turn to spot the red-draped rocks sparkling in the light.
And the river racing along the rocks that line our lanes.
It’s quite the portrait.
Images focused on the here and now,
built millions of years back.
Men simply cannot recreate such a view.
Can I stay?
The triangle will end eventually
to make room for another kind of life,
but I will embrace this one.
The hills will stay gold with our potential.