Following the Road by Larry Smith

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I have left my wife at the airport,
flying out to help our daughter
whose baby will not eat.
And I am driving on to Kent
to hear some poets read tonight.

I don't know what to do with myself
when she leaves me like this.
An old friend has decided to
end our friendship. Another
is breaking it off with his wife.

I don't know what to say
to any of this-Life's hard.
And I say it aloud to myself,
Living is hard, and drive further
into the darkness, my headlights
only going so far.

I sense my own tense breath, this fear
we call stress, making it something else,
hiding from all that is real.

As I glide past Twin Lakes,
flat bodies of water under stars,
I hold the wheel gently, slowing my
body to the road, and know again that
this is just living, not a trauma
nor dying, but a lingering pain
reminding us that we are alive.

Comments

  1. AnonymousNovember 14, 2008 at 8:07 AM

    The baby that will not eat

    Headlights only going so far

    relationships that end...

    oh it is hard but it makes good poetry. : )

    ReplyDelete
  2. La FraméricaineNovember 14, 2008 at 10:47 AM

    Perfect post for my recent road trip.

    Le Framéricain waited patiently for 7 hours while my sister and I walked through the corridors of what passes for health care in the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave.

    Would that I could turn it into one of your found treasure poems... I may try one day.

    ReplyDelete
  3. debraNovember 15, 2008 at 8:10 PM

    so glad to have found you...

    ReplyDelete

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Hey, thanks for your thoughts and your time:>)

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