These Roads I'm Led To Roam Poem by Francie Lynch

Ungraded roads have many holes,
Gravel, and running ditches.
After a rain, they seem more wide than narrow.
Long but terminal.
These roads I'm led to roam,
Not straight, but bending to travel.

Signs warn of deer or bumps,
With a bridge dead ahead.
Chances are, it's a single lane,
And timing dictates crossing.

My turning wheels clear the ruts,
And too soon they fill again
With running water,
As if I never passed.