Still Life

Still Life

This is
Still
Life,
Is it not?

The surrounding hills
Lush with greens, golds, rubies,
Bathed in the waning sun

Fronting huge dark gray clouds

A huge hot tea
4 Splendas
Skim milk
Cooling beside me

Racing down the highway
Zigzagging around
Trucks, cars, semis

A break in the dark sky
And white poufy clouds piled high
Like a whipped cream castle
Top point
Teetering on falling over

And, an hour and a half later?
Driving the backroads in the darkness and fog
The end of the day gathering around my car
Crying silently
Simply because that is
Something
That sometimes
Overtakes me

More now than months or even weeks
Ago

Thinking, fleetingly,
Of driving off the road
Ending the struggle
Stopping the voices
That tell me
I’m nothing

On I drive, though

This is
Still
Life,
Right?

 

* This post was written as a part of my participation in Dive Into Poetry with Jena Schwartz, a writer and promptress.  She and Cigdem Kobu have a writing group they manage on Facebook which I’ve participated in for about a year now and it’s changed my writing in the very best way – as well as creating a community of writers who help support and encourage one another.

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