detour

so the other night i strayed from the usual pile of books by my bed and pulled a little naomi nye off the shelf. good choice. found this. all this talk of regret, the wrong road... set me thinking. is there a wrong road? or does it all eventually lead back around, give you another chance? and what if you're on the wrong road and it's not your fault? what if someone else's wrong road directly affects yours? i have no answers. prolly never will. but i love the poem. and sometimes, i just like to drive...

Kansas, by Naomi Shihab Nye

Driving across the center of Kansas
at midnight, we're talking about
all our regrets, the ones we didn't marry,
who married each other, who aren't happy,
who should have married us.
Ah, it's a tough world, you say,
taking the wrong road.
Signposts appear and vanish, ghostly,
ALTERNATE 74.
I'm not aware it's the wrong road,
I don't live here,
this is the flattest night in the world
and I just arrived.
Grain elevators startle us,
dark monuments
rimmed by light.
Later you pull over
and put your head on the wheel.
I'm lost, you moan. I have no idea where we are.
I pat your arm.
It's alright, I say.
Surely there's a turn-off up here somewhere.
My voice amazes me,
coming out of the silence,
a lit spoon,
here,
swallow this.