Metallic gray parked along Weaver Street
And if not for the teddy bears looking out the back window
I wouldn’t know my car from the other metallic grays.
But when I see my babies, one click opens up my world.
I check the mirror on the underside of the visor
To see my face in cold daylight. The rhythm of a song
I wrote about girls, the ocean, dreams, and my father
Moves in me. Everything I have ever felt rides shotgun.
On this stretch of road the sun is in my eyes, this warm day
In April. I’d rather sit here with my feelings than go
Where I’m supposed to be but if I could, would it amount
To a hill of beans in this crazy world? The poet’s lament.
I vaguely recognize the row of trees with white cherry blossoms.
I have arrived but how? Luckily, my car drove me here.
NaPoWriMo Day 21. The NaPoWriMo prompt was to write a poem about traveling.
Please visit this list of my poet friends who are also doing the poem-a-day challenge. They are worth the look. I’m inspired by them daily. Contact me if you want to be added to the list.
© Sweepy Jean and Sweepy Jean Explores the (Webby) World, 2012