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It rained overnight, refreshing the earth.
The air wasn’t yet warm, the leaves
not fully unfurled. It was the height
of the virus, the first wave. With clinics
in seven states closed and ours booked,
we found one within a day’s round trip.
I hadn’t driven in weeks, for days
hadn’t been past the bottom of our drive,
to pick up the paper at 6 and the mail at 1.
We got a doctor’s note in case the state’s
border was sealed: “unable to schedule
time-sensitive procedure in-state, please
allow through.” No one stopped us and we
made good time. Only one hazmat-suited
protester outside the two-block buffer zone
shouldered a sign stapled to a plywood cross
that proclaimed a woman’s regret inevitable.
I kept both hands tight on the wheel
so as not to flip him off as we drove by.
In the parking lot, the cars were spaced
for social distance; the appointment
mostly by phone, each car a semi-private
glass-sealed intake room. At intervals,
the door opened to let someone in or out.
Up and down the path, everyone wore a mask
but with no legal necessity, not yet, to hide.
Copyright 2023 Carol Moldaw. Road Trip to Planned Parenthood from Go Figure, forthcoming in 2024. Appears with permission of Four Way Books. All rights reserved.
Go Figure will be Carol Moldaw’s 7th book of poetry. Her work has been published widely in journals including The American Poetry Review, Harvard Review, Literary Imagination, The Massachusetts Review, and The New York Review of Books. She lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico, and teaches privately.

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Oh, what a poem. And look where we are now.😭
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Yes, the right wing is subverting all the progress America has made over the last 50 years. The poem elegantly and subtly evokes our sense of frustration.
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Heart-wrenching.
We’ve put some miles behind us—have we not? (We who are still standing). Where do we wind up, as we careen toward the horizon?
How this poem conjures everything all over again.
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So much revealed in matter-of-fact
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yes, indeed. More than a road trip. A head trip.
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