I've Been Serviced
by Carol Hamilton

A cold wind speared the drive-through garage
as I arrived, but an hour later I sat there
in the warm sunshine awaiting
a quick car wash before I left.
I was happy to stare out into a pale blue sky
thinly smeared with stilled white clouds
hovering above a pavement-
and-vehicle landscape.
As there was no moan of wind
passing through branches and leaves,
I sank nostalgic into the familiar hum
of cars and semis Doppler effecting
my memories from the nearby highway.
Like trains in the night, this industrial attack
on the senses became an Eden
of the morning light … what I found
to be thankful for today.

Illya's Honey Literary Journal

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