Highway 99 Revisited

Hitchhiking home with my best friend
in the late seventies, I think it was.

Armed with the assumption of immortality
that often accompanies youth,
we ignored the possibilities of danger.

In retrospect, behind our painted smiles,
there seemed to be a hint of desperation
as we stood on the shoulder of the passage.

I recall looking at the highway signs.
None of the harbingers emblazoned there
mentioned the different directions we were headed.