Going Home (# 1035)

7 09 2015

When I went out alone when was a teenager I walked or took public transit almost everywhere. The city had a good system and one could go anywhere in the city on the buses, trolleys or trains. I mention this because I have such a vivid memory of all the streets between our house and the neighborhood transit hub, stores and amenities. During this time I do not remember my father walking in the neighborhood. He drove any time he left the house. At a certain point he decided he was no longer a safe driver and gave up the car. In fact he gave his car to me. For the rest of his life he walked and used public transit to go anywhere on his own. I often have wondered at what he thought and what he saw during these walks. Was it an effort walking up the hill on the return trip?

Last night I dreamed I was walking home from work having just got off the bus at the transit hub. I was bringing work home in a two drawer file cabinet that had a few papers and folders in it.I was carrying it by one of the the handles and it was very light. I thought of my father as I passed the first gas station. When I got home I was no longer there but at my current home..and I was no longer walking but arriving in the car. The driveway was much larger than life and crowded with a number of cars. I started to unload things into the garage and some one from the family told me there was someone in trouble. I person had locked himself out of the car and needed my car key to open his car. I pulled out my key and continue to unload. When I finished, I went to retrieve my key and the person was gone. Later I realized the key would not have opened the car and he may be planning to steal our car. We looked for solutions. Changing the locks was extremely expensive. We turned the car sideways in the driveway. Sure enough, we heard the car start and he was maneuvering the car. I rushed out and tore open the door…and woke up.

2. Trip to the Mailbox

Shadows on the pavement…
Violin singing in a passing window.
Breeze wheezing through parched leaves.
Midday late summer light
Massaging my skin
Warmth working inward,
into my body.
A leaf blower bullies its way into my conscious
Global warming.
Home again.




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