Slowpoke

It’s high summer here
so when you, whoever you are,
drive so slowly ahead of me
meandering along the hills
down country roads passing slowly
fields of corn, soybean, sunflower
grazing cows all with heads nodding slowly
in recognition of a fellow ruminant
passing vineyards where the grapes ripen
also slowly, so slowly, like you,
far below the speed limit
I conspire with cows and corn
to console myself about you
that you if nothing else you
thwarter of schedules you
remind me to admire
this patient panoramic view