Morning Drive
That same yellow light blinks, day after day.
A caution, a check up, or turn to be?
Days it stays, but many times fades away.
Morning dew stained view, unable to see.
Makeup streaks down my rear view, side view.
Roll down my windows, wash the faint black trail.
Never does my sight come back, breathing new.
The sun arises, free me, pay my bail.
A voice became loud, my vision returns.
A knob turning, and turning, turning.
Not knowing, forgetting, the stains, the burns.
Candle skies fancy my souls burning.
That caution, that check up, that turn to be.
That same yellow light blinks, day after day.
Copyright © Jordan Foster | Year Posted 2018
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