The Car

Driving home, the freeway jammed

Even the diamond land crammed.

Cruise ships seeking safe repose,

Passengers fighting off woes.

 

Fingers white around the wheel.

Hearts forgetting how to feel.

Tunnels permanently blocked.

Wooden doors steadfastly locked.

 

Hopeless, dreamless,zombie-like

Pounding in the golden spike

Absolute sincerity

Wallows in simplicity.

 

Disaster looms up ahead.

Patterns melt the tangled thread.

Revolutionaries sway

Blinkers indicate the way.

 

Arterial trends emerge.

Widens an expansive urge.

Switching lanes has come too fast.

Now forgetting all the past.

 

Exit sign soon arises

Throwing off all disguises.

Speeding in direction shown

Indicates a welcome home.

 

Spring woes

Rain drops pound on the streets

below ny hotel room, reminding

me of how lucky I am to be dry.

Winds buffet the windows:

throwing bits of dirt against the screens.

Gusts exceeding fifty miles an hour

blow vehicles into neighboring lanes.

I sit here thinking of home.

My heart reaches out to my cat,

Home alone in possibly a similar storm.

Does he cry for me as I do for him?

I want to go home.

As I stare out my windows I think

Of how far away I am.

I am sad inside yet enjoying

Being inside and warm.