solitude

yellow lines fly by below my halfway open window, cold air pulling into my heated cab.
one hand on the wheel and another gripping an old notebook,
scribbled directions blurred through the old prescription on my sunglasses.
there are sprawling farm houses on one side, grazing cattle on the other,
ambling slowly through the tall dead stalks dancing a frenzied jerk in the frozen wind.
i hit the gas to gain some distance between myself and the car behind me,
flying over the hills and hugging the shoulders on death-trap curves.
the trees lining the ribbon of country road i'm on throw horizontal shadows across my path,
the pavement striped in odd patterns interspersed with reddish sunlight.
i turn up the music still louder, the bass pumping through my doors and windows
with a rattle and a shudder. the screaming guitars drive all thought from my mind,
the scenery flowing past me entering my eyes one moment and blinked away the next.
deafening noise.... silent thoughts... the world is alive around me,
but i am not part of it.