Heading for the Hudson Valley

It’s been raining so hard lately
The puddles have tides.
The wind was booming in the trees
Trying to get the house to move.
I was in my car early
Heading for the Hudson Valley
Driving over fallen branches
Until I turned onto the highway,
Uncapped my thermos of coffee
And settled in for the drive.

I am on 149 heading for 87.
If those mountains move again
I’m complaining to god.
Under the overpass,
Now I am passing gas stations.
I have no need to stop.
I have coffee. I have gas.
Now I am turning onto the entrance to 87.
Still no radio. I am resisting the radio.
I allow myself to be passed by speed-demons

As I head for my exit, far to the south.
I remember how, on long trips
My sister and I would hold our breath
Between bridges. If we breathed
Before the next bridge we would die.
My sister was too young to cheat
But I would take mini-breaths
Holding most of my original breath.
I figured that was 90% fair.

A Halloween-orange-and-black sign
Indicates merging lanes.
Now there are cones, lights and barriers.
Working zone next five miles.
Fines are doubled.
The leaves of the trees either side
Create a corridor of color.
My eyes fill the screen, blinking
Turning colors like in Space Odyssey.

Be Prepared to Stop.
Shoulder Closed.
Ahead, looming in the sky
Floating in space within a clear orb
There is a fetus that has my face.
Now the work zone is behind us.
Cars jettison forth
Weaving in and out
Braiding a rope of traffic
Stretching all the way to New York City.