highway 80

on highway 80 across Pennsylvania we saw deer
not houses, barns, towns, people, cows or barking dogs
occasionally in the distance a town
rooftops and a steeple in the woods, jammed under trees

incredible, and true, passing through
there is only green leaf wilderness to be seen
roll on trees on rolling green in morning dew
hill after hill, rolling green and on

highway not filled with greyhound buses
their time gone in the passing lane
where large 18 wheelers pulling three
and private vehicles, SUV’s, roll on

early in the morn heard portions
of three songs on the radio, only three
get down, get down, cocaine, ho, ho, hosanna and
from a half century ago jerry lee lewis - great balls of fire

radio off then, we rolled on with the rest of them
up and down long hills, in silence, and on through green
road hum the beat and the accompaniment, and on
they could have called it treesylvania

open to the passionate long green and misty air
mysteries under leaves by summer deer
hills, rivers and long cloud sky abound
once indians, then pioneers, first walked this way