byNigel Debonnaire©

There’s nothing like a fresh, crisp road,
winding through green corridors on the river bluffs,
the great waters playing peek-a-boo
through the leaves.
Diving between green fields
of corn and soybeans,
soaring again toward the heavens
in hairpin thrills.
Here and there a cluster of houses
and a store or two,
wave as you pass through
oddly named hamlets
like Frankenstein, Gasconade, Marthasville, Defiance.
The bright sun sails above from east to west,
the shadows lengthen,
and a dozen wineries beckon
to stop and savor.
What a life.

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