The Wet Drive Home

I exit the dragon's mouth,
still puffing smoke
after all these 
purifying years;
round the corners
square as possible,
narrowly avoiding edges
where the earth
falls abruptly away
and the sea plummets
to terminal depth-
Sure, Columbus made it!
But in this new world
of terror, politically defined,
One must pause
(rethink the wet drive home)
wisely avoiding 
the siren call
of neon signs-
slippery, paste voices
of abundance
and firm footing.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace