I stormed out the door, frustrated
by her angry words.
Failure, disappointment;
dagger words she used to cut me down.
My soul, once precious to me, had sold at
a bargain.
There was nothing left to give.
I staggered out, head down, into an ominous
chill; the hair stood up on my neck.
With nothing but hurt behind me,
I walked on.
A white pickup, rusted, tilted on an
embankment.
Bracing my hand on the roof, I peeked
through the window and was jolted
by images that flickered to life and
were gone.
A toddler laughing in a car seat, fearless
next to a god driving with one hand
on the wheel.
A dog with his face in the wind,
safe, happy and trusting.
A wife sitting up high with proud eyes,
secure in honest love.
A man, cocky and strong, anticipating a
dazzling future.
A runaway teenager furious at the words
of a clown (no longer a god).
An ancient blind dog, still trusting,
making his last trip to the vet.
A broken wife, makeup smeared,
fleeing to her sister's house.
A jobless man dead drunk, gripping the wheel
white knuckled.
Drained of energy I headed back,
weeping, and determined to alter my future.
I would start by changing her angry eyes to
proud eyes.
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