41

The roadsides
are full of chicory with little
purple flowers all in a line.
In 1992, it was only wild asters

and black-eyed susans calling
to daisy cousins on
the New Jersey Turnpike.
My parents drove with the windows

rolled down in their 1978 Dodge
and sections of sentences whisked
past the windows while Sam and I
argued under a pastel bunny blanket.

This year the windows are sealed shut
and I wonder if the chicory is whispering?

-Hannah

 

 At 4:45am on the FDR Drive
The East River reflects so softly
The gentle colors of the sky
In its slow awakening

The half-asleep colors
Weak from rest
Grow stronger
Edges become sharp again

The silhouette of a face
Focused on a point ahead
Candid expression
The highway lines pass so quickly

As the light grows
Shadows dissolve

-KM