It was only a dribble this morning,
not much more than a fine mist,
letting us get from house to car
almost dry — but now
we can hardly see out the glass
as the squall hits fierce and fast,
the gutters fill and the road itself
seems almost to flow
and I am thinking how strange it is
that I got to be the chief driver
these days, and how accomplished
I’ve finally become
as small waterfalls from the hill
gush onto the road and spread
and I manouevre the slippery bits
and we arrive safe.
30 Poems in 30 days, 2010: 30
Prompt: A poem that takes place inside a vehicle
Some of these poems are autobiographical, some are entirely fictional, and some are a mixture of both. The intention is art rather than self-expression. I don't allow factual details to get in the way of poetry! (I do seek emotional truth.)
They are works in progress, and may be subject to revision without notice. Completed versions appear in my books. Nevertheless copyright applies to all texts found here.
Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your posts as much as possible.