Just For You Poetry

A steady flow across the bridge,
Multi coloured juggernauts
Crawling nose to tail
Like some endless transcontinental train
And what of the drivers?
Lives lived and counted in kilometres, miles
And days away from home.

From my hotel room in Irun I look out
From Spain to France and in five minutes
I lose count of man and vehicle
And wonder the numbers
because the procession never ends
day and night they just keep coming.

The rain finally stops and sunlight lights up
A small chalet on the French side of the border
(The light after the rain is a photographers dream)
The bright white walls and the red roof shine vibrant
On this damp winters morn and the steady flow
Across the bridge keeps crawling nose to tail.

I smile as I head out to the car and ready myself
To take my turn in today’s procession and wonder
Who else will be joining me/us today?

Several hundred i would think Tom, and your journey would be interesting because it is a lovely day and you only have to do this occasionally.

Pity the poor drivers who do this day in and day out in all weathers..they must even be driving in that procession as they sleep..mesmerized by the tail lights in front of them..

I've often watched lines of cars and wondered about the people in them. Where are they going? Where have they come from? It even makes me feel restless in a way.There's even something about the sound of the traffic on a major highway in the distance that makes me restless and wonder.

You capture the scene so well and the sense of being both separated from and being a part of this procession, Tom. Indeed, who might we meet on this journey, sir? Most excellent.