Sunday, January 1, 2006

Love Song with Cruise Control

One by one, their heads nod, then drop
into a chorus of muffled snores.
Only I remain awake, holding the wheel.
I pilot these tons of steel at lethal speed,
twisting past drop-offs, abutments, massive trucks.
Husband, child, baby, how thoughtlessly
each of you drops your life
into these tired and slightly achy hands.
It would only take a flick of the wrist,
a moment's inattention. And yet you sleep.
And still I drive. The thought of your fragile,
precious bodies fills every mile,
a surfeit of joy and terror.

Cheryl Gatling

published in Gingko Tree Review

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