Windshield cracked, windows silted,

The scudding sky around me tilted,


Metal battered by the gravel

Of such desperate foreign travel,


Lodgepoles draped in Russian Christmas,

Rock walls rising from the isthmus,


Sheer drops black beyond the beams

Which by day are tourist dreams,


Trucks in snowbanks, roads in blurs,

Exit signs in drunken slurs,


Rustic snowbound smalltown murals

Turned to white-outs in the Urals


Moorish dripped atrocities

On top of one familiar cities,


Countryside a car of pain,

Made metal by the frozen rain,


A rocketship forgiven when

It brings the world home again.


January 19th, February 14th, 2008

Tippet Alley