Swinging NightsA Poem by CG
The cool air rustles the hairs on my legs. The dim
lights that are falling from the string of lights banded
to the garage appear as mere decoration, only faded shades
of orange, red, and green, not sufficient enough to
allow me to see inside.
The moon has disappeared. The stars are lonely tonight,
but I, for a change, am not.
I feel full of myself, but not in the bad way. In the way that
I feel like I know who I am, what I want, and where I'll be
going. I feel like I'm sitting in the drivers seat and my calloused
hands are gripping the wheel tightly to ensure that I don't
spin out and lose control.
I'm on my way.
© 2012 CG