She had lived

with his deceits

his procrastinations

his rationalizations

his bad habit

of forgetting she languished

for too long,

too far gone.

So throwing three bags

in his '76 Lincoln Continental

rolled down the windows

& took I-15 north,

how far, she couldn't determine.

Driving down the road music in my soul,

Having no destination, nowhere to go.

I just have to get away, leave my troubles behind,

I need to get you out of my mind.

Music is playing loud and free,

Places to go a change of scenery.

My phone is off. I need to be alone,

Yes. I am running away from home.

© Cynthia Clark

Мы по вектору цели средь моря машин,

Достигая движений в просторе,

Но любой поворот заведет без причин

Не туда,куда знак на заборе

Мы локатором мерим мечты свой удел,

В суете самой серой панели,

Перепутье и мы ни в конце,ни у дел,

Будто ветры весь город раздели.

В этом омуте власти и спрятанных гнезд

Из насилия в пику прохожим,

Возвращенный мотор ищет тропы борозд

На надежность и в бурю похожих...