Journey: [Middle English journei, day, day's travel, journey, from Old French jornee, from Vulgar Latin *diurnta, from Late Latin diurnum, day, from neuter of Latin diurnus, of a day, from dis, day; see diary.]
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Poem of the Day: Parallel Parking
Buffy looms under the hosta—grey-striped and almost feral--
as she stalks Cloud. Beyond the garden, the street is empty
until the driver’s ed car coasts toward my house,
stopping beside the neighbor’s red truck
so the student can perform the parallel
park of the evening. She proceeds so slowly
that the cats watching her get bored and spy
a squirrel to chase up the sycamore. The student driver inches
backwards into the space behind the red truck,
so careful, so precise. But the car is too angled,
and she can’t complete it. Her fingers spread in a fan
of exasperation above the wheel. Every weekday evening
around six, another student and teacher come by
in the silver driving school car to attempt the maneuver.
I have found myself cheering them on, reveling in their
successes and almost tearful when the car won’t fit.
*This poem was written when I lived in downtown Bartlesville, in the house in the picture.