::poem:: The Burden by the Side of the Road

I’m driving in the desert

In a long red and white convertible 1960’s Cadillac.

With fins.

Shiny and new.

The bright yellow sun hangs high

In the clear blue skies.

The sand of the desert

Stretches for miles in all directions

Interrupted occasionally only by the rare cactus

Or Joshua Tree.

There is no sign of human life.

The top is down and the wind

Whispers through the tendrils of my hair

That have escaped the feathery light confines

Of the colorful silk scarf tying it back off my face.

Long strands billow out the back, unencumbered

Wild in the wind

Gleaming in the sunlight.

A little girl rides with me,

Next to me on the big bench seat.

We smile and laugh easily.

She plays with the radio,

Fiddling the knobs to tune in an old Motown song.

Time seems to have no place here.

We are driving with no sense of destination or urgency.

There is only this one long thin strip

Of pavement

Leading on into eternity

So we will be going where it takes us.

Behind us, in our mind’s eye only, is the city

Dark and cavernous, looming towers

And the treacherous suburban villages

Filled with soulless impotent ghouls.

We are driving in the sun

In the desert

Under the clear blue skies.

Soon we sense the spot approaching

And I slow the car.

We look at each other

And nod in agreement

Wordlessly.

We pull over to the side of the road

And get out, each from

Our own sides, heavy thump

As weighty doors ponderously shut.

From the back seat

I lift out what we have taken with us

From the city and the suburbs

Its heavy misshapen

Iron form is impossible to decipher.

No one needs to anymore.

This burden belongs

Here at the side of the road

In the desert.

The girl and I carry it together off the shoulder,

Into the desert scrubs.

We place it carefully down

Not fearing that it will break-

This burden could never be shattered-

But deferentially

Out of respect for how it was wrought,

Forged in our souls,

Two souls,

One soul.

Settled in now as if it grew there in place.

We stand back, watching it,

Absently brushing sand and desert dust from our hands.

Solemn moment of inexpressible, unutterable thought.

The day is hot.

Shimmery heat mirages

Rise in the distance.

I feel a drop of sweat slide along my temple

Down the curve of my face.

The tears of hard work.

We step back now, holding hands,

Then turn

And move back to the car.

Impulsively I lean down and swing the girl up

Into my arms

As I have done so many times before

With my own daughter.

We hug and I swing her over the top of the closed car door

And into her seat

While she giggles happily.

I spring around to the driver’s side and jauntily

Hop into my own seat.

Despite the dirt of our labor, my white clothes

Remain clean and fresh,

Glowing against my tanning skin.

I turn the key-

The car ignites

And the radio returns,

Rising over the rumbling again

As we pull away

From the shoulder, back

Into the road

And continue onward down the path.

Our car is a little lighter now.

We sing together under the sun.

Under the blue sky.

With the cooling wind of travel

In our hair and against our skin.

---

melanie gillespie

1.23.03