My lazy eye
turns inward and
I see twice as much.
Driving is a
challenge when the
double lines quadruple.
I don’t know which
lane I’m in, or
if I’m in the lines.
Traffic doubles,
causing instant
claustrophobia.
Now my husband
drives me, certain
if he won’t, I’ll die.
Triversen poem inspired by:
For Living Poetry prompt:
published in Substack:
Bravo! nice one
much♡love
Gosh, this would make driving difficult. A lovely poem, Nolcha.
Yes, best to keep away from the steering wheel Nolca! Kim The Cheessellers wife
You carried us along on an anxious trip with this poem, Nolcha, and the form was perfect for it...
You carried us along on an anxious trip with this poem, Nolcha, and the form was perfect for it...