My Favorite Parking Space

Five days each week I beat the rush, avoiding confrontation's invitation, returning to my convenient place, as a fox to a favorite urban den. The pavement radiates in summer's glow, like steam rising from morning's coffee cup. The open parking spot beckons ahead, my chosen routine in sunrise's hour. I recognize old stains on either side, where others littered without remorse. My sigh replaces engine's faithful sound, a soft signal to open driver's door. This fifteen minute uneventful drive, in the quiet hour before I work, makes me admire again the symmetry of my car in its normal parking space.