Friday, December 29, 2006


A Poem by

Stephanie Poesie


If I could drive

yet one more time down the highway of my youth.

One hundred miles per hour, hoping that

some officer would dare to stop me.

Through towns with names like Nanty Glow

where no one lives, but trucks take feed.

And Berwick, with its factory making tanks for the military

that he refused to serve, and later subway cars

we rode in our pinch-penny youth.

All day and all night long,

roaring along the river, that roars along the road.

And I, passing through for one more time, my own

Spring, Summer, and Fall.

But now Winter comes,

and I move slowly.



Stephanie Poesie is a short story writer and poet. She has studied at Black Mountain College and the New School. Her poetry has appeared in The Flatlander Review, New Voices from Nowhere, and Streetlights, among others. She presently lives in Ithaca, New York.


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