Once We Were Air

Clocked out. Punched out.

Time to go.

Jim pulls onto the urban onslaught

Called the FREEway.

He sighs, watching the wispy ghosts trickle from tailpipes.

We were once air.

Free. Free. Bounding, unchained.

Untamed and feral in our need.

Was it us that got too big?

Or did the world get too small?

Either way, we are water now.

We are water in a cup filled to overflowing.

We are caged animals pacing, pacing

Never racing

Wandering relentlessly to and fro.

Together but disconnected. We interact with everything.

Our motions guided not by our spirit longing to fly

Rather by those nestled in around us.

We are all jockeying for position

On podium that doesn’t exist.

Jim turns into the subdivision.

Pretty little cattle stalls line the road.

Too many rules to count.

HOA’s, Deed Restrictions, Plant this.

Not that!

Mailboxes uniform.

Cars resting silently in garages too full.

Rules. Laws. Restrictions.

Jim pulls into the driveway.

Radio stops.

The silence is broken only by his breathing

And the slow pinging of the engine cooling.

Once we were air.

Now we are water.

Ice is coming.

Jim opens the front door. His kids run to him with reckless abandon.

Stick hands, dirty faces, smiles and kisses.
Sweet Sweet Sublimation!

He is air once more.