Sunday Drive

[Brownlie]

Sunday Drive

We pass ivy bearded graves,
roadside beer cans glinting tribute to a whipping sun,
hundred-year old oaks transmogrified to unformed pews,
and ripples end in a small pond.
 
We claw relentlessly at thoughts too deep for tears,
capturing a minute within twenty pictures.

 

A Jalopy carries us with cybernetic wheezing,

leaving a smog and dust-filled wake.

We pass cheesy pubs
festooned in Toscano Bacchus busts.

Fall is here, and summer's over.
The autumnal carcass of a withered fly adorns the windshield,

a Jalopy carries us with cybernetic wheezing,

and the summer-tide beer cans disappear 
in a smog and dust-filled wake.

[dukealien]

Couldn't help thinking of one of those white roadside crosses you see, metal lace or wood or styrofoam, wreathed with plastic flowers, sometimes with a name, to show where someone bought the farm but wasn't planted.

Great images.

[just mercedes]

Hi - good imagery, though the fourth line made me reread - a little obscure to me. Or is it the grammar? I like the references that lean back to death, and the way I'm left in the 'wake'.

[Brownlie]

Couldn't help thinking of one of those white roadside crosses you see, metal lace or wood or styrofoam, wreathed with plastic flowers, sometimes with a name, to show where someone bought the farm but wasn't planted.

Great images.

I see where you got that roadside memorial from, especially with the beer cans. I wasn't being quite that smart, but that's a cool way to look at it. Sort of like a don't drink and drive thing that way.

---

Hi - good imagery, though the fourth line made me reread - a little obscure to me. Or is it the grammar? I like the references that lean back to death, and the way I'm left in the 'wake'.

Lol, the fourth line was weird. The thought was it would be people turning trees into something romantic, with nature being an inchoate version of divinity like in a Wordsworth thing or something. 

Thanks for reading it.

[CRNDLSM]

Sunday Drive

We pass ivy bearded graves,
roadside beer cans glinting tribute to a whipping sun,
hundred-year old oaks transmogrified to unformed pews,
and ripples end in a small pond.
 
We claw relentlessly at thoughts too deep for tears,
capturing a minute within twenty pictures. I like this flip, capturing twenty pictures in a minute, but time has more weight, like the deep thoughts
 
A Jalopy carries us with cybernetic wheezing,your descriptions are fun to read, but the cybernetic wheezing takes me out of the relentless clawing, like unintended comedic relief to a serious place, 
leaving a smog and dust-filled wake. Leaving, because the 20 pictures are stuck 

So much to think about going on here, Sunday drive, is this a regular thing, or one exceptional sunday?  You put me in a place feeling a certain way and leave me to figure out where to go.  I think that's right.

[Brownlie]

Sunday Drive

We pass ivy bearded graves,
roadside beer cans glinting tribute to a whipping sun,
hundred-year old oaks transmogrified to unformed pews,
and ripples end in a small pond.
 
We claw relentlessly at thoughts too deep for tears,
capturing a minute within twenty pictures. I like this flip, capturing twenty pictures in a minute, but time has more weight, like the deep thoughts
 
A Jalopy carries us with cybernetic wheezing,your descriptions are fun to read, but the cybernetic wheezing takes me out of the relentless clawing, like unintended comedic relief to a serious place, 
leaving a smog and dust-filled wake. Leaving, because the 20 pictures are stuck 

So much to think about going on here, Sunday drive, is this a regular thing, or one exceptional sunday?  You put me in a place feeling a certain way and leave me to Tout where to go.  I think that's right.

I think jalopy is a funny word, so you're instincts are dead on. This thing could be funny, with people taking like a thousand pictures/selfies. Thanks for reading!