Here's a draft of a poem I wrote tonight as I drove home from my sister's new place. She's moving into her first house--renting it with three other girls.
No title yet. It's a first draft. It's sort of scary to post something in its rough form. Enough apologies. I'll try to do more of this to truly celebrate poetry month.
Driving home in the rain
I heard Bob Seger
singing Against the Wind.
and for about five minutes
I could have been 16
on a side street in my hometown
turning corners
past sleep-darkened houses.
Me and the night.
Those were different days when
gas was practically free,
and I had nothing but time.
And life is sweet now, mostly
and my problems, if I have any at all,
are the big sort,
the I-can't-solve-this-on-my-own sort,
the it-takes-a-village sort.
Yet, this song stirs something--
A memory wound up tight,
spooling out more feeling than fact.
How many nights did I shut the car door
turn up the radio and drive nowhere at all?
A sweet release.
A small sanctuary from the world.
To think, to be.
Free.
2 comments:
I think that's a great poem, and it's an inspiration for me to write, and not just read, poetry this month!
I like this a great deal - I liked the twist of 'my problems, if I have any at all, are the big sort'
I did the whole just-drive thing Sunday before last - someone told me cars are portable wombs for adults. I think that's true. In my case I went to the pacific ocean.
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