I sit in traffic
Riddled with driving anxiety my whole life,
I loathed commutes
Distrusted other drivers and revved with the angst that is the only community on the high way.
I’m driving to work with blinding sunlight as the only passenger beside me
Just as I have since last summer
When work dragged me back .
Only, now it is almost spring
And the air warms with fresh hope.
More cars crowd the concrete labyrinth funneling all the suburbs into Columbus.
Enraged horns sometimes blare through rush hour,
And some Dodge truck called “Rix Rigg” on the plate rides my tail
And I get to work where more cars rest in the parking garage than have in an entire year,
I have never been so grateful as I feel a city wiggling back to wellness.
Gratitude sometimes looks like all the tiny annoyances suddenly inspiring hope.