Friday, May 16, 2008

New poem (small)

Jim Haas

The grade is deceptively mild.
In winter, drivers going east sometimes can’t
get their cars through the intersection
and drivers going west come sliding through
out of control.

They wonder what just happened.

It’s like the anti-gravity mountain passes
where a car in neutral appears to go up hill
because one’s senses have been fooled.

It’s a trick of light and shadow,
of subtlety and a subconscious willingness to be taken in.

We hate surprises, except that they delight and amaze.
Where fear and desire cross paths.


Rob Hardy said...

Fascinating poem. But, having never driven in the mountains, I don't get the part about the "anti-gravity mountain passes."

I've read it four or five times, and it still hasn't yielded (no pun intended) all of its meaning to me.

Jim H. said...


Try this link:

There was one in rural Pennsylvania that I remember from my youth.

Rob Hardy said...

Aha! Very cool. It's kind of like this place that we pass every summer on our way Up North.

Jim H. said...