Dawn

I am a snail, gliding along 395
usual punchy drivers
suddenly courteous, letting others into their lanes
nodding as we pass each other,
waving thank-you’s once in front.

Silence burns the air,
exhaustion–physical and emotional–
bleeds from my eyes.

I am numb.  Numb to the day.

I crave my bed–
to wrap myself into a burrito and dwell in the shock,
but today I am a snail,
marching towards tomorrow’s leaders

My body drags itself up the hill,
a slight drizzle signals change
I hold my head up, not because I want to, but because it’s the only way to move forward.
I am a snail, my shell–it stabilizes
my mind
my body.

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