Time to drive. a poem.

The manual transmission
sticks at times,
a reminder that we
need a service and I
need to find a new place
for my engine to unwind.

There was a time
when things were simpler,
when you could change
the sparks yourself.
But now it’s all computers,
and instruments
and waxing/waning moments
in technicolor
and surround sound.

Now, I need to feel
the road beneath my wheels
and roam free of this room
that encapsulates
and encourages me.
I don’t believe
you would appreciate
this fresh and wise
perspective.

Now, it’s time to drive.

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.