Drive Home From Work
A poem about the 5 senses

I wonder if I will ever reach my destination. The waffling of misplaced air from the two windows being down in the back gets to be too much for my ears. I give in to lowering my passanger side window, just a crack. Immediately a streaming flow of salty air envelopes the car. Familiar and nuanced. The air carries information about nearby restaurants and the days activities. I see my dog agrees as I look at her through my car side mirror. I know we're close. I stick my hand out the window, allowing my fingers to weave through the air as if running through strands of hair. Cool to the touch, it's almost damp. The sun doesn't try to smother the skin with kisses all day like the deserts sun. Instead, it waits til afternoon to make an appearance, if it does at all. Today's haze cushions memories with thoughts of my bed and pillows as we drive on. The familiar right turn on to PCH, my body bracing before the car even turns. I re-adjust naturally after. It's all second nature at this point. Anticipation garners as my home comes into view. A full bladder's screaming makes it hard to think. Except to wonder, why I'd ever left my beach location. Sent via the Samsung
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