On the rare occasions I needed to keep the car this summer, I found myself driving down the main north/south street of my town not long after dawn. The traffic is still light at that time of morning, so it’s a perfect time for musing.
As I drove, I noticed the elongated shadows the buildings cast across the street. At each break between, streaks of golden sunlight striped the pavement. Light penetrating the darkness.
I caught every green light. No stopping, no turning, just driving on and on and on. Through the shadows. Through the light. Never slowing, never wavering. Like a mundane life. A safe life.
But it need not be, I thought. The sunlight was like a blade, slashing through. Flashes of inspiration. An opportunity to escape the banality.
At that point, I had the great idea to capture my thoughts in a poem. Below is the result. And now, you know why I don’t write poetry.
driving south on Blackstone as
between buildings whose
stripe the pavement,
from this monotony of