And the sun's always rising in the sky somewhere

[image via weheartit]

I have never been a morning person, but
lately the mornings are my favorite time of day.
I drive up 101 N and see: bumper-to-bumper traffic;
shiny pre-owned minivans weaving

lane in and lane out; harried parent drivers
reaching back to quiet their quarreling children
as their vehicles drift; a man using his electric shaver
while he drives by Braille along the center

divide.

I have never been a morning person, but
the chilly gray clouds that shadow me down the highway
remind me of the me of four years ago,
whose only summer job

was playing horseback riding camp instructor
to spoiled eight- and nine-year-olds who wanted
to pet the horses more than they wanted to ride them.
They chanted, I don’t want to, I don’t want to, because

they were afraid. And while I drive to work
sometimes I think about the men
who shave while they drive; about the women
who leave their toddlers in locked cars; about the coeds

who brave a flagging job market for tuition money;
and about those frightened children, because
in these moments, more than all other moments,
I would rather not be

me.