Interstate Highway 80
Through the fourth floor windows
Waiting for the doctor’s nurse
To fetch me into the sanctum
I sit in a wheelchair in an empty
Bright room I look to the north
To see the east and west traffic
Of American commerce fulfilling
Orders of parts and purchases
The trucks and cars give me hope
That one day I might join
Travelers somewhere different
Somewhere new like my old days
To and from a university
To and from visits to friends
And family beyond the horizons
Of which I have limited vision
Fishing and hunting museums
And music something to feel
The dull has eclipsed my world
I dream of being beyond myself
The trucks and cars have expectant
Drivers thinking and dreaming
While I gave blood and wait and wait
For my dreams to peal like bells
Barry G. Wick
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