Song of the Highway
New York, 1931
Written by Pauli Murray (1910-1985)
1st published poem
I am the Highway,
Long, white, winding Highway,
Binding coast to coast
And people to people;
I am the spine of the earth.
Over the hills I glide
And then, come swooping down
To some deserted spot.
Over river and lake I stride-
Through farm and field, and town,
Through desert sands, white-hot.
I laugh when the brooklets laugh,
And weep with wayside trees
So bent-so broken by the wind.
Sometimes the birds and flowers
Fill my path with song and bloom;
Sometimes a fragrant breeze
Leaves me drenched with faint perfume.
I hear the sounds of earth-
The low of cattle on the plains,
Clatter of hoof, sound of horn,
Rustling fields of rye,
Of wheat, of tassled corn;
Sweet sounds, so dear-
As through the year
Life marches on.
I am old-sad things I know,
Ache of road-worn travelers,
Lonely hours; the tragedy of pioneers
Who trudged through scorching lands,
Through rain-and snow,
Who bartered with famine-thirst-
And death-to give me birth.
But I go on in silence,
For those who know my life
Will sing my song,
Song of the Highway,
Long, white, winding Highway.
New York, 1931
Written by Pauli Murray (1910-1985)
1st published poem
Pauli Murray's poem “Song of the Highway” is about the possibility of democracy and is spoken from the perspective of the open road. The poem's final stanza alludes to the fate of silence that is racialized and gendered.
