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Highway Home

Decades on the road

By Colleen Millsteed Published 11 months ago 1 min read
Image courtesy of Pixabay

Her gaze is on the blacktop, her foot on the pedal,

Her heart no longer crying in grief,

Her eyes have shed the last tears of the past,

And her mind is now crystal clear with relief.

**

Authentically wholesome, the horizon pristine,

The deception released, the way paved,

As she travels the highway home,

Her broken soul tripping the lane, freedom craved.

**

Her song climbs the hills and valleys,

Her life no longer apologetic, she’s paid her fees,

Her days of being sorry are over, of carrying the burden of her shame,

She’s earned her total freedom, the silence of her peace.

**

She now lives for the next sunrise, the crooning over the horizon,

The last rays of the day as the sun sets, welcoming the night,

The deafening call of the wild,

And the darkness of the sky, welcoming the stars with their pinpointed light.

**

She fans her inner flames, bringing warmth to her torment,

Fuels the rich environment, discarding the pain within its ash,

She sits alone in wonder, calls the surrounding wildlife in friendship,

And ponders her past, the years left behind, burned and crashed.

**

She’ll no longer hold forth her silence, bite her tongue to keep the peace,

She’d prefer to walk away, walk in solitude, cry over another goodbye,

To live in peace, to sit in contentment, to guard her inner sanctum, to protect,

Rather than don that societal mask, to hide behind a lie.

**

Decades she’s traversed the highways, looking; neigh begging to be let in,

Dreaming of belonging, while she hid away and cried,

But no more — she now stands tall, stands strong, behind her name,

She may stand alone but she stands in the open, head held high with pride.

Stream of Consciousness

About the Creator

Colleen Millsteed

My first love is poetry — it’s like a desperate need to write, to free up space in my mind, to escape the constant noise in my head. Most of the time the poems write themselves — I’m just the conduit holding the metaphorical pen.

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    Written by Colleen Millsteed