All that matters
is the plastic barriers
between the road
and whatever lies
on the other side.
Six feet tall
and covered in ridges
the way some people
are covered in freckles.
Graffiti whizzes by,
a flurry of colors,
shapes
Some looping like ropes
curled up on one another.
Some chiseled cartoon chins.
Bridges and barriers embrace
the colorful art
but the forests through which
the pavement cuts hideous streaks
break the pattern.
The trees sprout over the asphalt
like gothic arches.
The woods ask,
What adventure will you find?
The graffiti asks,
What will be your mark?
James Bowie High School
12