Good
Friday
It rains hard these days
Like someone's trying
Hard
To flood us out.
I put the headlights on
Smell of mildew
Baby's car seat gray
Like the sky,
The buildings I pass
On the way to work.
My headlights reflect
Off the back doors
Of a van,
I'm nothing but eyes
Lit and staring
Waiting for the moment
When I walk through
The door
And you're there
Smiling,
I say,
"We did it
We're done."
Copyright © 2004 Anthony Salerno