Driving-Daniels-Poster

By Kate Daniels, LSU Press, 2019
Design by Zuzana Kubišová

ENGLISH




That was the year that summer lingered
and fall came on late. I was still wearing
sleeveless clothes when the temperature fell,
and the wind rose suddenly, and tore the leaves
from their branches in a matter of days.
By then, there was a long line of addicts
on the corner every morning—red-nosed
and shivering, sores all over, reminding me
of the roaming packs of starving dogs you see
in third world countries. I shooed them away
when they begged for money... All that autumn,
I was searching for my son. Why I never looked
among the junkies on the corner who, after all,
were other people’s sons, or why—god help me
I drove right through their tattered clots,
and kept my coins to myself, and controlled
my thoughts—I have no clue, I just kept driving
though I had no sense of where I was going,
or what I’d do, or what I might find if I got there.