Skip to main content

A Night Drive






When I click the beams full, my car has the eyes of a giant.
The road and the night are one colour.

I follow a line of stars homeward.

All the sky is stars: a maze of lights: the eyes of my car gape.
How simple it would be to amble up, meander, squint-bleary, marvel time away.

How would we find our way back?
I don’t know.
I think we would be laughing too much, but then find a bean stalk, helter-skelter, plonk, back on the driveway.
Find a pot of gold in the footwell.



Comments

Geo. said…
"A pot of gold in the footwell", I perceive the real treasure is the owner of the feet. Striking photo, but a bit alarming to this American (right-side drivers).
9 March 2015 at 23:47
Dixie@dcrelief said…
Pot of gold would be nice too.
10 March 2015 at 04:16
Cherdo said…
Nooooo....don't follow the stars! They don't follow the road!! I need you to keep posting and a crash will interfere.
10 March 2015 at 16:56
Lisa Southard said…
Ha- I had forgotten about the right side driving! I am not good at differentiating left and right so I simply follow the 'driver should be nearer the middle' rule. Makes foreign driving problematic :-/
Thank you for making me precious :-)
10 March 2015 at 23:10
Lisa Southard said…
Certainly nicer than the reality of the footwell- it's a bin with no liner! I call it 'homely' which is a word being dragged from the original meaning 'place where people can relax' to 'place where people fear to sit.'
10 March 2015 at 23:16
Lisa Southard said…
Noooo worries Cherdo- the stars were road markers (we call them 'cats eyes' and I think this is universal but have not checked- don't want you thinking I am out driving over cats!)
10 March 2015 at 23:20
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Contact Pants Conundrum

There is weather today, I do note it: take a few moments to reckon the size of a cloud (big) and the frequency of rain (sporadic.) Centre of my interest though is a stack of magazines. Not the fashion kind. This is martial arts research. I'm not even sure what it is I'm looking for, but intuition calls loud. A range of old adverts skew some amusement. Contact pants, for example. Pants are not trousers where I come from. They are underwear. Professional contact pants: improved smirk value. But why would a person be likely to purchase a grappling hook and a lock pick set? For specialists and hobbyists only, the blurb assures. Guidance on the pheromone spray that attracts women against their better judgement? I doubt it works any more proficiently than the mysterious potion that defines your muscles while you sleep. But, then: I wonder is some sprayed on this paper? What was my intuition thinking, making this ghastly shout… Tea break time. There's a lot of words...
2 comments
Read more

Back From The Future Blog Party

Another joint blog adventure- if you want to see who else said what the list of participants is here . The premise is this: 'You're up before dawn on a Saturday when the doorbell rings. You haven't brewed your coffee so you wonder if you imagined the sound. Plonking the half-filled carafe in the sink, you go to the front door and cautiously swing it open. No one there. As you cast your eyes to the ground, you see a parcel addressed to you ... from you. You scoop it up and haul it inside, sensing something legitimate despite the extreme oddness of the situation. Carefully, you pry it open. Inside is a shoebox -- sent from ten years in the future -- and it's filled with items you have sent yourself. What's in it?' Here's how I imagined it: Before dawn? Shadows outside, first forming. Sleep has gone, I don't know where. Coffee I can find. All the way from Machu Pichu, this fair-traded pack. Scissors are in the drawer, which ...
26 comments
Read more

A Glitch Or Two

My Chromebook has been crumbling. It seems a little like dementia, this inability to upgrade its powers of communication, it makes me sad, even for an object. It's one of the reasons my posts here have been put aside, that and generally being tumbled by tiredness. I have saved up money for a replacement, also I have spent that money on trees and shrubs. I have two novels to sort out however, and this will be the reason I save up again. I don't stop writing, even if I don't tell anyone. In the meantime should you need a calm place to go, I have begun a substack account. Please do drop by. If the kettle crumbles we can make tea (or soup) on the firepit. Me on substack:  Lisa Southard
Post a Comment
Read more