Following the Road by Larry Smith


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. 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. 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

Post a Comment

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

Popular posts from this blog

A Year with EB White

The Poet Goes to Indiana by Mary Oliver

Goldfinches by Mary Oliver