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Drive home.


Wherever you go, there you are.

On the drive home,
if I sit very still and close my eyes

The air smells warm and dry,
dry as the Santa Ana winds.
Bougainvillea, Eucalyptus, Jacaranda, Palo Verde-
They all wrap their fragrance around me,
sweetening the sky that grows bright with starlight in the desert night.

The car rumbles straight away, past exit signs, shopping malls and city glow
Until we move up,
up and out where the gentle curves, marked with sage and century plants,
sway along for the ride,
the road winding and wonderful,
no other traveling, except the coyote or a cow.

At the top,
the live oak stands quietly with arms outstretched as if to say, Almost there.
Leaning into every curve, rocking back and forth,
landing smoothly, one with place and present.

Finally, I’m home-
unlocking the door to my mind,
windows arching open to see my soul,
Saltillo and sand below my bare feet, cactus flower at my side.
Relaxing, ready for my heart to soar like a hawk …

Front Yard, April 2004 (6)until I open my eyes, miles away.

  • Janet Muniz is an award-winning professional writer known for informative articles, inspiring blog posts and engaging video content. Her personal blog, The Shape of Trees, is devoted to filling the well with poetry, pictures and originality.
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3 thoughts on “Drive home.

  1. Phyllis R. Furlong says:

    If only we can follow your lead and experience life’s beauty so fully. Beware the risk of flying through life without seeing or feeling what is around us. Rush, rush. Hush, hush.

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