How many times you put me
In your back seat,
Listened to me chatter down
Sun-soaked roads
On our way to the park or
The music store.
This time it’s a dream.
You are the passenger
In the car ahead of me.
In a dream, everything is real.
Turning the corner,
Some familiar landmarks.
Lined leather gloves,
Wool caps and winter coats
Pump gas at the Mobile station.
Across the street
Regulars line up for a fish fry.
Eyes forward now,
blinkers offer a sign
Of what’s ahead.
You turn right
Onto South Clinton
Toward home.
I try to keep pace
To stop you
From disappearing
Into what’s next.
Flash forward:
Next door, I wait for you
Inside a neighbor’s house
I’ve never seen.
Rick is there.
From the bay window
We wonder
Why isn’t she home yet?
You left so fast.
I never took my eyes off of you
Until I did.
Moving the curtain aside
Headlights rounding the corner,
Falling sleet dulls their beam.
The faceless driver
Pulls in to your driveway,
Turns on the brights so you
Can find your way.
Through quickening flurries,
You rise.
Look how your smile
Lights the night,
Snow turns headlights into halos.
You walk
As if you had never stopped,
Climb your porch steps,
Turn to the waiting car,
Wave a thank you, goodbye.
With a twist of the knob
You are home.
