Traces of snow huddle close to the curb
Trying to preserve their present form
Adorned with bits of litter,
Assorted minerals,
And whatever else the bitter cold froze
Below the surface
Her face breaks from blankets;
The horizon line,
Where we find dreams easily achieved
We make believe that hitting snooze will wiggle lose
The tooth that is routine
She gleans glimpses of lunar light
Gleaming despite the fact night has subsided
Her skin collides with freshly ironed clothes,
deodorant and a small dose of perfume
Consuming peanut butter toast
She explodes from the kitchen
Throws hers keys in the ignition
Quickly shifting the transmission into drive
Surviving paycheck to paycheck is stressful enough
but now she's stuck in road construction
Waiting for the bulldozer to move from her path
She gently places pressure on the gas
and bounces over the section of grav-
el where the pavement had been
Her engine rattles as tires spin
Splattering tar onto the win-
dow of her recently cleaned car
So close to her out stretched hand
That her cigarette landed in her lap
burning a hole through khaki pants
Forcing her to slam on the brakes
And take a minute to examine
The salmon coloration of her leg
Where the fag was estinguished
Relinquishing her grip on the steering wheel
She peels out at the light
Overly excited to have the right of way
parking two blocks away she feeds the meter enough coins to cover her eight hour shift |
Submission Name: early spring
