Gateway

This is me.
This is mine.
This is the road I’m upon.
This is the double white line.
This is the middle of the road.

Don’t cross the line.
Don’t overtake.
Slow down.
Sharp bend ahead.
Rocks falling.
Children crossing.

I put pedal to the metal,
drive further, faster
till the signs all give way
and the tarmac too.
There’s just rock and sand
and land, endless land.

The path is the one
the wind has blown.
The lines are the ones
that creep 
around my eyes
as I smile 
at my getaway.