Empty
Empty
The gas tank is empty.
I have five more miles to go.
The car glides to a stop,
beside the road.
I get out.
I push it further on,
into the dirt and brush.
There is a hush,
deep in my soul.
"How can things be worse?"
I grab my keys,
my purse, my things.
I lock the doors
and leave a note out on the shield.
"I will be back, it is a fact, please do not take away
my only ride... as the ocean of life has risen,
I am near-drowning now."
I turn toward the empty road,
and know that I must hurry.
There is dinner to prepare,
and my family is already home.
They are alone,
and they should not be,
but I can not try harder
than I already do...
lest I fail completely.
Perfection, a goal,
a commitment,
but not attainable
or realistic.
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