On the way home
locked in my metal box
locked in formation with other metal boxes
alone yet surrounded
I see along the way, in the sky
Blue and white and blustering with moisture
pregnant with liquid life
near the rise ahead is a waste zone, a land of tanks and chlorine and sewage
Black Iron and shiny stainless and bad odours
floating above it are black spots, darting back and forth
Playing in the thermals, riding up and down
undoubted joy in the alternating Sun and Shade
my spirit guides are calling to me and saying
enjoy the moment, for it shall pass sooner than you think
I drive on
Art by G. Cournoyer
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