The whir of your engine
Propels you by.
I cannot see you,
Somewhere in the sky.
The rev of your engine
Gases your motor.
Your tires disappear,
As they quickly roll over.
The voice on your phone
Tells your business,
But you’re so absorbed,
You just listen.
Sounds all around me
Distracting my mind.
They are very welcome
In this troublesome time.
The sound of the trumpet
Will soon resound.
Headed for heaven,
We’ll be homebound.

10.22.2020 Thursday
Written by Gail Brookshire