Up to now it seems
That things have always been
Idyllic countryside drive
Endlessly rolling hills
Easy going all the way
Until the edge of the known world approaches
With a thin ribbon of concrete and steel
Arcing off into the unknown
There is a temptation to turn around
It isn't too late to go back yet
Familiar highways and trails
Traversed a million times before
Tire tracks from times past
Crisscrossing the old familiar earth
But this road goes only one way now
And it is out up and away
As a light snow starts
A setting sun showing off distant clouds
Dumping moisture off their undersides
Obscuring the future in a haze
Looming large in the fading light
Going slowly past the final
Well-used turnaround area
Where we used to gaze out at the unknown
In our youth
Sitting around bonfires
Tentatively kissing one another
And awkwardly touching
Before there even was a bridge beyond
Or at least we hadn't noticed it yet
Now pushing through an inch of snow
Crunching satisfyingly under tire
No place to turn back now
One final sign before the base of the bridge approaches
"Bridge Ices Before Road"
In black print
Upon a reflective yellow background
And a crazily skidding car outlined within
Up the structure we go now
Heedless of any warnings or fear
In search at last
Of that fabled away up and out
Darkness closes in
At the disappearance of the last irritated sliver of sunlight
And the tires begin to slip
And we notice that there are no guardrails
Speed decreasing upon a steady grade
Wishing for the sand tubes of a railed locomotive
Portable granules of that safe earth
That is now so far behind
Beneath accumulating snow
Lightning sparks across the sky
Illuminating all
Once
Then twice
Long enough to look
Left
Then right
Over the edge and into black waters
That stubbornly refuse to freeze in the cold
Filled with the carcasses of cars past
The only indicator that anyone else has ever tried
To go this way before
Chug chugging upon slickness
Downshifting just to keep the engine running now
Acceleration a forgotten idea
To keep forward motion the ideal
Headlights shining up into the night
Catching sight of nothing but the gently falling snow
Flakes as large as curled white Persian cats
With ice blue eyes
Accusing us of everything
But expecting nothing
"Maybe the road just ends here at the top?"
That whispered question still hanging in the air
When the apex is reached
And the car teeters upon a point
And for an unending few seconds
There doesn't seem to be an answer
Until there is
And the car decides to go forward and down
Please keep your arms and hands inside the vehicle
Picking up speed upon the snot slick skid surface
Those curled white Persian cats
Have now become stars
Streaking towards the windscreen and past
A tunnel of bits of light
The hyperdrive is fixed at last
The far side approaches quickly
Too fast for much thinking at all
With several inches of fresh whiteness
Trying to find the road is a dicey call
Until the edges can be picked out
By sparsely spaces white reflectors
A path to a new land's interior
Following only the idea of a path
No tracks to be seen
A new territory
Try not to fall
