Paul Wiegel, “Road Trip”

orange line

Road Trip

You and I are not planted and
still, we
do not measure our worlds against
stillness, as stones do. We
move. We are carried as
infants and we never
lose the taste for that dip and
rock of going forward. Your
roads and mine are
just other corridors, they
draw a wider gap between
where we were and
where we’ve come to
be, which is where
a mind can finally be rid of
being static and
stationary. We move to
drop away from that
easy trap of things that
are at rest, until we
feel the thrilling release of
motion and its soft
roll that carries us away.

 


Paul Wiegel is a Green Bay native and now writes from his home near the upper Fox River in Wisconsin. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in The English Journal, Riverbabble, Hermeneutic Chaos Journal, and Hummingbird. He is the 2015 winner of the John Gahagan Poetry Prize. You can find him at www.foxriverpoetry.com


 

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