I am driving home from work

Yawning most of the way

The separation between work and home

Closes at 45 to 50 miles per hour

 

I pass by car dealerships

And a few houses that need repair

Several hundred feet of wetland

And cross a railroad track

 

The car bumps over the rails

I look down and around the curve

A deer is standing in the tracks

I worry the train might come

 

Now the road inclines

Past an old drive-in movie theater

That is now a used car place

And a dog grooming place

 

Then there is a car repair place

And lots of woods

And a dirt road

And a Frito-Lay storehouse

 

I pass by cornfields

I pass by a field full of wild turkeys

And many more deer

To the bend in the river

 

The road becomes a hill

A curving incline

I look down through the trees

And see the river getting rid of its ice

 

I enter my village

Decending the hill

And I see there is still a Christmas Tree

In the living room window of a house

 

This is odd, I say to no one.

Some giant dogs play in a driveway

And I signal to turn onto my street

And in seconds I am home.

 

© Diane E. Dockum, April 17, 2014