Road To Anywhere
The house sits locked and bare;
a derelict car sputtering off
with the last of the possessions
that owned her.
Bellows of dust and sparks
trailing; lingering behind
as busted tail lights disappear
against a burnt sun horizon.
Sitting tall and square
behind the wheel of her old truck,
with bare shoulders, essentials,
and a folk rock playlist.
Windows down, volume up,
a long last look,
releasing her breath;
a slight smile twisting.
Hands, ten and two; pedal down,
heading north to anywhere,
the wind tangling her hair;
stripping away stress; urging on.
No more 40 hour weeks.
No more juggling bills.
No more corporate slavery,
building someone else's dream.
This is the moment
she became free.
*For my dearest friend Anna, who inspires me more than I am able to express.
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