Thursday, October 5, 2023: Duane L. Herrmann's "Texas Exit" and "Almost Meeting"

 

A reluctant carbon-based life-form, Herrmann was surprised to find himself on a farm in Kansas in 1951. He’s still trying to make sense of that, but has grown fond of grass waving under wind, trees and the enchantment of moonlight. His work has been published in print and online, even in languages he can’t read. He has carried baby kittens in his mouth, pet snakes, and held conversations with owls, but is careful not to anger them! All this, despite a traumatic, abusive childhood embellished with dyslexia, ADHD, cyclothymia, an anxiety disorder, a form of Mutism, and (now) PTSD.

Texas Exit

Out in the country,

way, way out,

where officialdom

is far distant,

and despised,

we make our own rules

when convenient,

and no one cares.

For instance

when I want to leave

the interstate,

when my road is near,

I just drive off –

across the shoulder,

across the grass,

to frontage road –

and home!

No one objects.

Almost Meeting

Two boys,

age nine, or ten, or so,

in separate cars

going opposite directions

looked at each other

strange.

One, elevated,

on new highway

looking down.

The other,

on original route,

looking up.

Both amazed

by the differences

they could see,

and each other.

Old route later

purposely flooded.

© 2023 Duane Herrmann