The Road Trip   This trip is a poem written on the streets of Pittsburgh and New York and in the Nebraska dust in front of a gate and on a bench in the town square in Vandalia, Ohio after a walk beneath the maples on Maple Street, smiling into mirrored balls on meticulous lawns at suppertime; a poem to banish ghosts and the fear of darkness: To see the ragged curtain in the darkness, moving in the wind as a curtain, nothing more. Oh, it's just a curtain.