Vox Populi

A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature

Kate Daniels: Driving

That was the year that summer lingered

and fall came on late.  I was still wearing

sleeveless clothes when the temperatures fell,

and the wind rose suddenly, and tore the leaves

from their branches in a matter of days.

 

By then, there was a long line of addicts

on the corner every morning – red-nosed

and shivering, sores all over, reminding me

of the roaming packs of starving dogs you see

in third world countries.  I shooed them away

when they begged for money…  All that autumn,

 

I was searching for my son. Why I never looked

among the junkies on the corner who, after all,

were other people’s sons, or why – god help me

I drove right through their tattered clots,

and kept my coins to myself, and controlled

my thoughts – I have no clue.  I just kept driving

though I had no sense of where I was going,

or what I’d do, or what I might find if I got there.


 

Copyright 2018 Kate Daniels. From In the Months of My Son’s Recovery by Kate Daniels. Forthcoming from LSU Press (2019).

Reprinted from Five Points vol. 18, #2 2017. Included in Vox Populi by permission of the author.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Enter your email address to follow Vox Populi and receive new posts by email.

Join 10,037 other followers

Blog Stats

  • 3,415,067 hits

Archives

%d bloggers like this: