"Familiar curls of highway gleam in the pre-dawn"
Under the triple-laned
lit up turnpike overpass,
sharp-tipped weeds
reach through weathered rocks,
as if unaware
of how hard someone
tried to stop them.
There is growth under everything
you’ve driven past,
another WaWa, that bagel shop,
the Costco station
open at 6AM. Familiar curls
of highway gleam in the pre-dawn,
and on the radio,
a slow jazz movement
after the news
with promises
that an upcoming interview
will offer a glimpse
into a better way.
At the traffic light, a line
of cars behind you.
Upturned orange detour signs
lean against weedy guardrails,
while you snap back from a reverie
astonished
at how easy it seems
to start anew
once the light turns.
J. A. Lagana’s poetry has appeared in Atlanta Review, Burningword Literary Journal, Cider Press Review, Heron Tree, Rattle, and elsewhere. She is the author of the poetry collection MAKE SPACE (Finishing Line Press, 2023) and a forthcoming chapbook EDGE of HIGHWAY. She was a finalist for the 2023 Julia Peterkin Literary Award in Poetry. An avid bird-watcher and knitter, she is a founder and former co-editor of River Heron Review and lives in a Bucks County, PA river town where she raised her family. Learn more at jlagana.com.