There’s a skinny little road between Hadley and Amherst. A skinny little thing of a road, with green borders as thick as an Oxen’s side. I ride on this skinny little road every morning, following along it’s spine from here to there. The sides of this road are like swatches of time, turning from homes to farms to woods to farms to homes again. I admire the skinny little road between Hadley and Amherst. It’s rarely taken by many; those of such minds falling in love with the Routes–with it’s lights, and glass buildings, and shiny, sunny eateries.
I enjoy the solace and nature of the skinny road; the chickens that sit admiring traffic near the blue barn; the popular, but tucked away Atkins on the left, and the apple orchards teeming with children and thieves.
I hope the skinny road between Hadley and Amherst is good to me come the Winter.
…sometimes at night I dream that I’m in my car, and I’m falling of a cliff…but I never hit the ground. No matter how long I wait, I never hit the ground.