the day's breathe
runs thick in my brain.
a heaving mucoudial sigh.

words play tag and dodge
but will not stand still
prefering to run and trill.

the hum of traffic
soporforic....
and it
takes all of me
to concentrate on
the simple art of
driving....

i am at the end of this day
so drawn out and opratically
long...

i sit now, numb,
from all the academic,
angst and drama.
in the car,
in the driveway.

the home straight,
laid out, right before me.

the lights on in welcome,
inside husband and child
dinner for the table
the fires warmth beckoning


but still i sit
here ensconced,
in the quiet cocoon,
of the car, parked in the driveway.

where,
no one wants
or needs , a piece of me.