Freeways Poem by Vera Sidhwa

Freeways

My taxi driver drove so well,
Synchronized with freeway speed.
I looked outside my window.
My taxi was in the lead.

I looked at the taxi man,
And wondered if he was tired.
I asked me which career he had,
Before he had retired.

As many taxi drivers
Told me their life's tale,
I realized how much the freeway
Resembled their lives success or fail.

Freeway travel went slow,
Like in cold snow.
Freeway travel were battles won.
Yet at other times they were at ease.