Outside Our Window

Outside our window rolls the USA,
changing faces state by state, bay to bay,
for better or worse, sun or wind or rain,
from California to Portland, Maine.

We are driv’n a semi truck down the road
with a compass, the dog, and a payload.
Diesel sucking, gear grinding, city block long,
truck bigger and meaner than old King Kong.

Climb the big hill long and slow—out of LA
we go—four lanes of traffic creeps away.
Pass everything in sight when you are light;
stay to the right, but it might take all night.

Las Vegas looms bright; the view is life-size,
jewels in the desert, but if we’re wise,
we’ll pass her by, that lady in the night;               
she will  clean out the cash if we but bite.               

Power lines march across the dry desert,
like soldiers tramping through sandy blizzard.
Canyons were carved there before time was time,
in St. George, Utah, red rocks are sublime.

Heading north on I15, bright mountains                                                    
lift their lofty peaks; verdant land sustains                             
cattle, buffalo and Salt Lake City.  
Scale the heights; leave a valley so pretty.
 
Warning signs read strong cross winds possible—
laugh in Wyoming, joke in Nebraska,
with forty-four thousand pounds in the box,
we’ll stay on the ground while the big rig rocks.

We leave Iowa at the Mississippi,
now heading straight for the windy city,
right downtown past Chicago’s skyscrapers,
where we can see the movers and shakers.

We stop for a while to shop at Wal-Mart
parking right next to the Amish horse cart.
Ohio turnpike to Pennsylvania,
we will push on through New York mania.           

We’ll travel up the coast to northern Maine
then start all over and head back again.
New Jersey, next week, Alabama,
every state a new panorama.

We’re semi-retired but can make our pay;
over one thousand miles on a good day.
DOT standards we will always meet,
upstanding members of the RV fleet.

 The great United States, it’s our playground;
 outside the window, wheels go round and round.
We are driv’n a semi truck down the road
with a compass, the dog, and a payload.