It's Still Life

On the Drive Back

We took a right off Mount Pleasant,
onto Battlefield Boulevard—
past Redeemer Church,
the Stars-and-Stripes postbox
tilted like it’s listening to ghosts,
past the 45 sign
bent sometime in the night
by someone who didn’t quite
make the elbow turn.

Two lefts and a right—
past the woman mowing
the white heads off clover
like she’s trimming memory,
past the tree that refuses to be bound,
its roots lifting pavement
in slow rebellion.

Then the turn into the drive,
the garage door rising
like an awakening—
safe and landed,
just like Kitty Hawk,
still believing
we were meant to fly.

Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2025.