to syracuse

en route to syracuse my car was quiet
i peered into the worlds of the people i passed
or the people that whizzed by me.
the lushness of summer greenery still dripped from the hills
of the spittle of the Adirondaks.
and the simmering gray sky dribbled
moistness that gathered in the veins of every leaf
and between my bottom lashes.
a thick silver cloud squatted over the tops of the hills
and the white stipes of the road fenced gracefully
to peirce my way.
accelerating through long strips of farmland interrupted
by the great splotches of brown and white
bellowing from beyond catweed and tufted tall grasses.
the drive was precious and already
a memory as it happened.