Driving Home | Amy Cunningham

I am not on the internet super highway.
I am on Mount Orab Pike just before the graveyard.
A humid eastern wind muscles through the elms.
They reach out for me. I veer right towards a stone wall.
This is a small road on the great grid of great things.
This is a small road past the new elementary school,
past the Georgetown Motel--ROOMS FOR RENT,
past Sunshine Independent Living Senior Citizen Complex.
((Henry (with the tennis court) rocks back and forth back and forth))
This is a small road. This is an ageless journey in a V-6 engine.
Rabbits look like rabbits and squirrels look like squirrels.
Families sit for portraits in great green front dandelion yards.
I am a small bit of information; a living animation of 1’s and 0’s,
a double-yellow wave of a woman, loaded with room for extra memories!
I curve into town towards home. I exhale and make a wish.
I am caught on the tail of the eastern wind and gear west.




back to Poet Index to read more Juice