on the drive home

the taste of salt still in my mouth
of an oyster
scooped unceremoniously
standing on the steps
between kitchen and chef’s office

weight of the day dangling off my shoulders
or is that just my purse

the noise of
slipping into a haze
as I slide out the back door
into fresh air
not sure if it is
or away from
reality that I go


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s