GIFT
For a hundred miles
the fields have worn
beards of ugly stubble
and night is falling
and you can’t find
a lover, not on AM or FM,
and the hand at the toll booth
wears a glove
so as not to touch you.
You pay for yourself,
then for the car behind you,
so someone pushing headlights
through the heavy dark
will feel luck
go off like a Roman candle,
and she’ll give a car length
to the maniac who cuts her off,
and you, there in your lonely bubble,
can think of each tail light,
each anonymous fender
as a friend.
–Jeanne Murray Walker from Helping the Morning: New and Selected Poems
Two footnotes: I had the good fortune to live in a dorm suite with Jeanne at an arts retreat we were both doing some work at (The Glen in Santa Fe) a decade or so ago. Chatting with her each morning and evening as we brushed out teeth blessed me immeasurably. Two: The woman who is credited with coining the phrase Random Acts of Kindness has written many wonderful things few know anything about. Here’s a sample from an earlier blog: https://heatherchoatedavis.wordpress.com/2012/04/15/lessons-from-the-garden/
Heather Choate Davis 