Old Enough

I’m sitting in my car

Steering wheel in my sight

My car is parked

I’m waiting for my sister to come outside

It’s weird that I’m the driver

That I’m even old enough to drive

Old enough to accelerate or keep my foot on the brake

Old enough to put the car in park, reverse, or drive

Old enough to honk my horn at someone else

Old enough to turn my blinker right or left

Old enough to be the one to choose the music in the car

Whether it’s alternative, theatre, classical, or guitar

And old enough to control the volume

Old enough to check my three different mirrors

And old enough to know I have a blind spot

Old enough to hold the steering wheel in my grip

And with one slip that grip could tip, flip, rip, whip, skip, zip, snip my ship in a blip

 

I can recall the times when I’d play in the woods

Fantasize and realize I’d do anything I could

I’d play house or heroes, and soar through the sky

I wanted to do anything and everything, if if only I could drive

I’d admire the cool teens with their sweats and messy hair

Going to parties and pulling all nighters, no time to spare

I’d look forward to when I’d live on my own

Decorate my space and cooking meals, getting to be alone

…independent

 

It’s weird how now I sit in the car

In sweats and messy hair, finally old enough to drive

I can recall wanting to speed track my life to it’s destination

But now that I’m old enough to type in the GPS

I confess

I want to go the speed limit

Actually

I want to go under the speed limit

Actually

I might want to stay in park

 

I can recall wanting to go go go to reach the “top”

I’d stop being excited about where I actually was

Now I understand as I’m getting closer to the “top”

I need to soak in and experience the time that I’ve got—

 

—My sister’s at the door

I unlock the car

She slides in and places her bag on the floor

I wrap my fingers around the gearshift

Which at the moment is in park

I slide it into drive

I slowly accelerate

I hit the speed bump and the next

I stop at the light

I make a right turn then a left

The sun is shining bright

I merge onto the interstate

I slowly accelerate

I feel no constraint

My hands and mind dictate

I narrate my own life

Navigate my own drive

Create my own storyline

No speeding this time

 

I’m sitting in my car

Steering wheel in my grip

My car is moving

I’m pushing forward steadily

As I’m approaching my destination

More readily

I realize its not the “top,” but the drive

And to soak in what I see

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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