impoverished-open roads leading to the oblivious
all smash converge at once,
where actual mountains of water,
comprising northern states
bestow upon the lower regions
“where you goin this time, stranger?”
“how can you tell I’m leavin?”
“no can disclose, Mr. Jones”
believers in the enchanted ‘60s,
will remember all those strange stories,
yet continued building bridges
“hi there, brother, got any new ideas?”
“as a matter of fact, yes, and thanks for noticing”
“well, these NY mountains taught me easy”
“then let’s all celebrate those colors”
“ummmm…how bout praising water…?”
“yes! thanks for reminding me!”
" and hey, we can always keep riding
all the way to White Lake