Milestone
Stephanie’s driving and the music’s blasting;
We’re setting fi-i-re to the rain, singing karaoke
like drunks. My mother always kept it low—
To hear the sirens, she said.
I’m lying back; one foot resting on
the open window, wind whipping through my toes.
My husband would explain what would happen
to my leg, should we crash.
He didn’t want us to go alone. “Let’s
do it anyway,” Steph said. She slows.
“Look, Mom, the Florida line.” I lift and tap
My iPhone, capture the sign.
Mystery
The moon half fills my rear-view mirror,
pale blue fading into the blue of morning.
Soon it will be gone, and where and when it
will reappear is almost the mystery
I recall from long ago. A child, I
sat on the lawn and pointed to the empty
sky, "The moon was right there yesterday,”
“Where is it today?" I've
forgotten
the answer I didn’t comprehend.
A couple of computer clicks, and
I could know whether it will soon
loom large and orange on the horizon;
shine through backyard branches, full and bright;
turn up sliced-in-half, an after-party cake;
teeter ghost-like on my neighbor’s chimney;
freeze mid-fall, a pillow quill from heaven;
or hide out for a while—a weary celebrity.
I could study its hows and whens and whys...
In my mirror, almost faded away--
It’s an outline of loss and wonder.
I won’t be visiting NASA dot G-O-V today.
Driving to Work
Up ahead, the sun rises, cracking the bottom
of a tall white wall. The splinters capture color
and spill it over wheel-holding sitters
in glossy machines. I drive through pink air,
thinking of manila folders and the forms inside
to be filled, copied, scanned, uploaded, and filed
so the state auditors can nod the accommodations
for my English learners--enough, but not too much--
and the numbers and names to back each decision.
Far above the sunrise, an airplane inches
over the white like a tiny black bug
crawling across an immense sprawl of sheetrock.
And across the mist, vultures hunch, boss-like,
anticipating what they will pick at today.
Bio
Laura Johnson is an English/ESOL teacher at Fayette County High School
in Fayetteville, GA. She earned her MFA in Creative Writing in 2017, and her
work has been published in Time of Singing, Blue Heron Review,
Snakeskin, The New Southern Fugitives, and others. Her first collection of
poetry, Not Yet, will be released by Kelsay Books next spring.
