Rough
and rugged. Unedited and raw. It continues with a night drive.
CelenaDiana
NaPoWriMo Day 2
DRIVING
HOME FROM MY MEMOIR CLASS
Afternoon
At Sadie's
Jesse
Cook's haunting flamenco melody
thoughts
weave through my head
like
a solo woman dancing flamenco
to
a lone guitarist
city
lights pass overhead
as
I speed cross Central Ave
through
the night
window
down in the cold crisp air
tossing
the clear clip
from
the name of my neck
onto
the seat beside me
my
Droid useless
some
time between class
and
starting my car
my
useless phone decided to restart
still
no 4G since the latest update
useless
I
try to drag my fingers through my hair
meet
the brim
of
my favorite orange hat instead
at
the traffic light
I
flip the visor mirror
two
and a hours in class
still
I have the imprint of my pillow
on
one side of my tired face
through
Magnolia Ave
under
the 91 overpass
I
keep thinking about Egypt
my
thoughts keep returning to Egypt
Every
since taking this class
I
keep turning to find more connections
to
my former home
my
once and passed life
yet
still I can think of nothing else
from
the Jordan restaurant
which
served hummus so much like home
to
the five scarves I couldn't decide upon
so
I threw them all into my purse
when
I left for class
(carrying
scarves my new compulsion)
to
the Iranian woman in class
whose
hair and affectionately twinkling eyes
remind
me so much of my beloved mother-in-law
to
the definitions and redefinitions of husband
that
remind me of the blessed marriage I had
brief
though it was
to
the questions
endless
questions
I
ask myself about
fear
responsibility
family
lineage
what
it means to be a woman
how
do I define myself now
will
I ever be complete
and
the jealousy I wrestle
for
those in long standing
and
even brief marriages
all
with children
still
I constantly ask the void inside my head
Did
I really make all of the right decisions?
Because
look at where all of my paths led me
is
here where I wanted to be
eventually
and
now
would
I know how to define
what
it would take to complete me
is
being incomplete what gives me hope?
Or
is it fearing completion
that
makes me so intangible?
Perhaps
tonight's dreams
may
mercifully give me answers
Perhaps
tonight's dreams
may
mercifully give me answers
©2013
Celena Diana Bumpus
Composed
in silence
For a complete listing of my poems for the month of April 2013 entitled:
UNDER MY SCARF, BENEATH MY HAIR AND BEHIND MY GLASSES
(because who knows what mysteries lie there):
A COLLECTION
which will be updated daily. Simply click on the titles to discover the poem and more.