Tag Archives: keys

Driving home

I step over cracks on the sidewalk,
walking briskly to my car.
The air is cooler, thinner,
refreshing for the soul.
I notice a puddle in the gravel,
full of yesterday’s mysteries.
Children are racing in the street
on bicycles that look as though
they were just bought today.

The jingle of my keys
swinging through my pockets,
a sound so often overlooked
stands out even more than the stain
of orange juice on my pants.
Yesterday I had no time
to fix the small mistakes.
This morning I had no time
to change anything about
who I am.

Today is going to be different,
I can feel it in the cool air.
I pull my keys out, and reach for the door.
I’m standing over the world
like an idle god, a frozen idol.
An ideal dream.
I stand alone in perfection,
if only in my mind.

The engine hums a familiar rhythm,
a song to send me away.
Clouds hide the sun from my eyes.
Left hand grabs the steering wheel
right hand on the gear shift.
I pause, realizing
the radio was playing a song–
a song that had some meaning
to a life lived long ago.

I think of you for a moment,
and though I sigh at first,
I grin as I remember
the fool I was before.
And I cannot hide my smile
when I think of the man
I will become–
because I drove home.



Filed under poems

Dusty keys

A childhood dream
becomes a memory,
and what am I left with?
These dusty keys
and an empty bench
to tell me I never was
the figment of my dreams.
And as I drag my fingers
across the endless white sea,
I hear majors and minors
and I stop at a B.
If I smash these dusty keys,
will there ever be
someone there to stop me
from killing
what makes me

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Filed under poems