The Open Road
Traveling south on 41
with all the construction
and the left lane closed,
so bumper to bumper
for miles, when suddenly
I pass an oncoming
worker, his orange vest
and yellow hard hat
reflecting the morning
sun, walking alone, head
up and shoulders back
and arms swinging like
life couldn't get any
better, and he's smiling
this big smile through
his orange-red beard
as he strolls down the
middle of the empty lane,
a whole wide path to
himself, and I think,
I bet that's what freedom
feels like, as I make my
way to work this morning.
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