I enjoy city living,
the clamor of trucks
chugging their way up thirty-five.
Thankful to receive their grace,
I scoop up the space
they leave for stopping,
shelter in their shade
from the blinding west light,
reflected in the luster
of downtown’s embrace.
Singing from the radio
and a chorus of rumbling engines
frame possible routes
that will shave minutes off my trip.
Listening distractedly, I trust in Google
and weave a simple path
around stanchions and potholes.
There is a harmony in our common plight
as I join the morning journey.
We are like tender children,
smiling as we wait our turn
to move five miles, two feet, three inches
closer to a destination only we can fathom.
Each in our own car, dreaming our own dreams,
We serve our gifts on society’s platter,
clasp what we can in tight fists to take home
once the day is over,
and begin the journey anew tomorrow.
Trish Callahan is a poet and writer residing in Dallas County.