North on I-95 Through Georgia

I cross another river
after briefest lapse of land
ten fifteen twenty—
I’ve lost count &
names like secrets whispered in a dream
there are so many:
brown like molten chocolate
garnished on all sides
by emerald growth

I want to stop the car
get out & stare
to note curves
pregnant bellies
their differences & sameness
to calm myself
with trickle
ripple
the occasional splash of fish

there’s no pausing
I have land to put behind me &
this is more like window-shopping
for endless stillness &
a fashionable coat I can’t afford

Ace Boggess is author of three books of poetry, most recently Ultra Deep Field (Brick Road Poetry Press, 2017), and the novel A Song Without a Melody (Hyperborea Publishing, 2016). His writing has appeared in Harvard Review, Mid-American Review, RATTLE, River Styx, North Dakota Quarterly, and many other journals. He lives in Charleston, West Virginia.