Long Ride Home Poem by Sarah Sisson

The fall of a felonious time.
A speck of immortality grew
into a penniless memoir. It was
a justice that I sought directly
following the moments I
was undone. In the setting of
a smoky bar, a monetary
cesspool, I rode out in a dither.
On a cold start I became numb.
By Gods grace I sat in my
parking lot and my travels were
unknown to me. That moment
of relief, to see familiar surroundings,
was my last recollection. As a sun
pierced fog collected on my windshield,
I felt the sharp pain that only comes
from a night well spent in my cups.
I would feel relief aside form the
pain when I realized I had made
it home one more time.

Copyright 01-13-2009 ©® Sarah Sisson