Sun-burnt arms hanging carelessly again
out the car window,
fingers tapping to the music of bending trees,
the smell of freshly laid tire tracks indicate
the rush hour race is on.

My eyes speeding through the scenery around
me,
I am a poor audience.

Lively grass and vibrant flowers shout out
with a fresh burst of new colors, pleading to
grab my attention.
But the only color I see is 'GO'----
The time will come to finally stop,
not for the sake of traffic, but for a last chance
to open my eyes to this generous gift;
hopefully before I reach the end of
my
narrow road.