Finish Line
The secret to us staying together, I said, is just not to think about the finish line. You got to keep your eyes on the road. Out by the speedway, we found a bench with all of its slats intact. The roar of the cars & the crowd came in waves, like the ocean. You could smell the exhaust.
We had everything with us, but it wasn’t enough for her. You go on, then, I said. I was already carving our love into the wood, but stopped before the plus sign & her own six letters. I don’t want to miss this chance, I said. One of those waves isn’t going to stop.
I’ve never written in response to a Poetry Thursday challenge before, but this week it was ekphrasis — just like the current theme at qarrtsiluni, the literary blogzine I help edit. So how could I resist? This fairly inconsequential little poem was written in response to “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” by Judy W, from this post at Elegant Thorn Review.