Unfolding a New Day

After coffee, 

I weary myself 

out the front door, 

poke my key into the ignition, 

and reverse into the cul-de-sac. 

Thick vapor cascades, 

then burrows in the valley 

just past the entrance to my driveway. 

I watch the fog gulp each house in one swallow. 

Muscle memory navigates the bends and curves 

through the familiar neighborhood. 

Water particles blur traffic 

and my thoughts. 

The wipers swish, 

clearing the mist for a moment 

only to mangle my view again 

and again, 

just like my inner critic. 

The weight gain hot flashes self-image issues a missed deadline 

jumble in my mind 

like a volcano about to erupt. 

Darkness saturates the air in my rearview mirror, 

I vow not to surrender to the gloom. 

I shift my gaze, 

embrace the emerging dawn.