by Bill Sullivan
How to know if history is slamming
on the brakes, screeching to a blessed stop
just before the ditch and the cliff--taking
a left turn, leaving behind all the outdated
models, the hesitant and reluctant drivers?
No trumpet blares, theatric announcements,
no once-every-five hundred-years comet
streaking across the night sky, no revelations.
And we wonder if history is on automatic
drive and we're just along for the ride? Or
if we can remap our route, take detours, back
roads to avoid dead ends and fatal collisions?
Still we keep our hands on the steering wheel,
step on the gas, sing songs to the night sky.
Bill Sulllivan taught English and American studies at Keene State College before retiring in Westerly, Rhode island. His poems have appeared in print and online publications including: Perigee, Connecticut River Review, the Providence Journal, and The New Verse News. He is also the author of Loon Lore: In Poetry and Prose.
