The Lawyer’s Wife

it was god’s original sin

not hers

the gift of self-perception

to these men without

the basic know-how

to let her in

her drive

from there to here

with no warning signs

for the rough terrain

the curves the bends

the rapidity with which

the road descends

only man-made maps

to chart her destination       

goggle’s synthesized voice

reciting disbelief and grief  

as her faithless companion

her music plays

in an endless loop

to what’s left of hope

she yells

at the illuminated dash

just look at me

look what i did

look what i do

after she triple-taps

the credit card

to pump the gas

when her tank

is almost empty

alone in the myth

of the deserted

convenience station

where nothing

is supposed to stare back

the sudden gasp

along the way

caught for a moment

in the headlights

of a swerving bus

full of sleeping children

sometimes it’s all too bright

she pleads with

night’s lonely ride

when bats and owls cut

the starless sky

when deer and skunks

cross the center line

that she be seen by anyone

for who she is

steadfast

reliable

behind the steering wheel

of the crossover

her wingless aching

shoulder blades

she prays

to be remembered

as summer falls

for parking the family car

with neer a scratch

in the narrow garage

when the journey home is over