6.01.2010

hand signals - by jenny

this road
same old, gray, dreary road
has always made me feel partly dead
sepia barns and grasses pass by
none too satisfyingly

turn by the wheelbarrow
there will be an oak tree
and a cow
and then you take a right

I've been down this road a thousand times
but somehow I missed it
I did not see this turnoff before
has this street always been here?

Side road, I think not
change of course maybe; this is no detour.


Holding my breath I make the turn
No, it's not me.
you're driving... and as you take me through the turn
you have your arm out the window to signal Right

and suddenly, as though slamming into a wall
Through a wall,
life switches modes to colorvision
and that old gray barn fades into the distance..

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