Telrao

Driving

Sighing softly, I settle into the car seat.
I check that the Learner plates are up,
My mirrors are adjusted just right,
My hands are settled on the wheel,
Ten and two, breathe, you’ll be fine.

Dad sits in the passenger chair beside me,
And my delicate calm shatters completely.
My muscles are tense, my knuckles white,
My breath quickens, heartbeat panicked.
I force myself to be calm.

Father tells me to turn off the safe parking brake.
I do so, my hands shaking terribly, fearful.
He says to shift the car into drive
I do, foot firmly on the brake.
Then, I slowly lift my foot.

My breath catches in my throat as we crawl forward
Ever so slowly, at a careful snail’s pace.
Dad says to go a little faster,
I press the accelerator,
Silently screaming in fear.

Slowly, we roll towards my first obstacles,
A sharp curb baring its teeth from my left
And a threatening branch to the right.
I carefully edge the car forward,
Then turn the wheel precisely.

Dad smiles as we turn around the sharp corner,
Nothing bad happened, at least, for the moment.
I release a relieved, long-held breath,
Settle my hands on the black wheel
And ready myself for another round.

Sunset

Head held in hands
The stress permeates my brain.
It infiltrates ev’ry corner
Destroying my focus.

I tap my pen
Agitated, angry, stressed
The page is blank, pale, and empty.
No words will come to me.

I stand, sighing,
Staring at that pure white sheet.
I glance out my open window;
The sun is now setting.

I look outside
Study the yellows, pinks, blues.
The swirling clouds with tumbling hues.
Birds argue, laugh, and sing,
Settling together, wing to wing.
The sunlight shines
Delicate beams of light, sublime
To my hungry eyes.

I rest my hand
On the windowsill, wishing
That my cares, burdens, hurts, issues,
Could vanish; burned up
By the bright golden light.

The warm sun sets,
My mind clear, refreshed, renewed.
I sit down, smile at the paper,
Pick up my pen, and write.