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The joy of the road
It’s a big joy
to take the road
and drive past cornfields
and to get the sweet sour smell
that water leaves there
for the first time
in your nose.
It’s a big joy
to drive on a road
that allures black in front of you
and goes up and down through the landscape.
There’s something indescribable
if you become part
of the sun and the wind
and with a motorbike
to find your place
in the world around you.
There’s something magical
to hear the insects
in the bushes
outside of Pieter Maritzburg
and to smell the summer sun
on the plantation trees.
Still greater is
to catch the smell of the see
on the wind
to see the blue waters
lying in the distance,
while free like a bird
you drive nearer to it.
poem
by
Gert Strydom
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