Jan 31, 2014 | Poetry

[title subtitle=”WORDS: Catherine Frederick”][/title]

She sets out at dusk
Driving back to a past she’s spent
years running from

Mile markers sneak up as memories
flood in
Easier to ignore than to address
So she drives
Past the white clapboard churches and fields of soybeans
Much too soon she’s arrived

Pulling slowly in front of the yellow brick house that looks much
less grandiose than when she was a child
Frozen she waits
Still as a rock

Shadows move beyond aged curtains
The porch light flickers on

Do South Magazine

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