Blind side parking in the dark
The dim contrast is anything but stark
Head out the window to gain a better view
Wishing I knew what to do
My instructor never showed me how
Yet expects me to do it now
I take time on the approach
To avoid critical reproach
There are no deadlines here
It's just me and my fear
No light to guide my trailer
I cry out in prayer
No spotter to guide in this dark hour
In this moment this job does sour
Finally lined up in perfect form
Hopefully I've reached the calm after the storm
I pull it up and guide it in
Now the celebration can begin
Inspired by a midnight phone conversation with my mother, a truck driver.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem