Perhaps when I’ve lived long enough
that time and I have become good friends,
I will no longer curse at semi-trucks
going sloooow on the two-lane highway.
No, I will simply drive fourteen miles under the speed limit
and happily harmonize with the oversexed songs on pop radio
and notice how beautiful the swirls in the red rock cliffs.
I will not imagine fitting consequences
for drivers who pass in no-passing zones.
I will simply say thoughtful little prayers for them
to protect them on their way
as they blithely jeopardize the lives
of every other human on the road.
And I’ll be so grateful for construction delays—
how they give me time to sit and reflect
about how happy I am to no longer be
the kind of woman who gets upset about traffic
and all the small-hearted dim wits
who don’t pull over when twelve cars are following them—
yes, it will be so nice to sit there beside the orange cones
with a smile on my face,
not ashamed at all that I used to be so bothered by it,
oh, remember that chapter?
I’ll be so amused I ever thought it was a problem
to creep an inch an minute for an hour and a half—
how lovely the slowness, the pace of patience,
my hands on the wheel, my foot humming above the brake.
LOVE this. May we all achieve such growth in our lifetimes!
right??? Oh friend, apparently, after my drive the other day, I have a ways to go …
I haven’t decided whether this is straight or sarcastic, irony or acceptance, but either way it is intriguing and imaginative. Thanks, Rosemerry
oh friend, i don’t know myself–i am so seldom sarcastic I don’t know what to do when it comes up. I have to admit I really did get very mad at the truckers and the suicide drivers this weekend … called them some right awful names. I might have even believed myself for a while, too … but my daughter and I did manage to laugh and laugh for hours and hours (and hours and hours) and hours and hours and hours and hours while we drove across the state.
xo
r