Route 66
by John D. Berry
Driving, driving,
Down night highways
With high beams,
And shooting stars.
Thirst,
Heads me for
That roadside,
Truck stop dinner.
There,
There you are,
Dark hair,
And bright eyes.
You are
The nearest thing to heaven
That I've seen
So far.
Won't you
Meet me out
In the Dark
Tonight.
Driving, driving,
Down night highways,
With an angel,
And shooting stars.
volume 10(2)
This poem is copyright © 2005,
John D. Berry, all rights reserved.
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