Today's prompt was to write about the journey home. Of course, I think of The Odyssey as a lens to think about my own less epic commute. But like Odysseus, I have love waiting for me at the end of a long day. How miraculous is that?
Finding Ithaca in Beaumont
My commute takes ten minutes,
Not ten years.
Odysseus would be jealous.
No ogres block the highway.
The only sirens singing
Are the police cars filling the evening
With flashing blue and red.
No sea monsters guard my driveway.
Like him, I keep my mind on home,
Not what’s around me:
The Exxon refinery browning the azure
Of the almost endless Texas sky,
Washed-up mobile homes
From the last hurricane,
Remnants of pine forests,
Magnolia groves, who never forget
The season, spring, and bloom
And green accordingly.
Beauty salons, because we try to, too.
The scents of fresh donuts
Intermix with the chemical stench
Of the brown smoke. Gas stations
Pop up like dandelions along the highway.
A train announces its arrival,
An endless procession of boxcars
Chug along. This is progress,
The sound of the bells,
The red flashing north,
As the engineer begins
His own Odessey
As mine ends.
I pull into my driveway,
Open the garage,
And imagine myself
In a kind of Ithaca,
Filled with cats, fresh coffee,
And always love.
I have to confess, I'm getting a little fatigued writing a poem a day. Which makes sense. I'm almost there :)