In the U.S., local businesses often adopt a bit of highway as a public relations/advertising move. They keep this section of road clean in exchange for having their names mentioned on a roadside sign. Yesterday I got wondering about these bits of adopted highway in an anthropomorphic way.
Adopt-A-Highway Program Next Two Miles
Do these adopted stretches of asphalt
ever long to find their true birth parents
in place of these familiar strangers in
lime green visibility vests who clean
their shoulders once a week in return
for a public proclamation of their goodness?
Do such streets ever dream of going back
in time to meet the root of their route, their
cowpath mother and hunting trail father
who first came together to pave their way
well before there was paving?
Or are modern roads incurious about
where they came from and where they’re going
as long as the local Moose or Johnson’s
Funeral Home takes care of the next couple miles.
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