Streetlamp

I am drifting from light post to light post,

Tethered by the beams that softly toss me on to the next.

Murmuring throne carries me with vision half obscured.

There is a feeling of being lost except for the lamp post connection,

There is also a feeling of warm safety that I’m not sure is justified.

I hear conversation in tiny spurts as it washes over the front seat.

I’m lying on the back seat looking up at the lamp light gently tossing me,

Each one catches the car and cradles it until the next light takes over.

We are traveling home from somewhere I don’t remember and it doesn’t matter.

I am safe. We are going home. It is quiet. For the moment. There is no yelling. There are no tears.

As long as there are streetlamps it should be ok.

JKF

1/30/16