“The Drive”

The drive was the very worst,

Under canopies of trees it was evident

our quiet conversation was clearly coerced

Flowers we nurtured together died of thirst

and left behind petals soaked in malevolence

The drive was the very worst

Our roses died yet we still tried to nurse

all but one, who remains desolate

Drive it to the hospital, you coerced

You hit redo like a car in reverse,

hit a tree stump the size of an elephant

The drive was the very worst

Windshield cracked like an outburst

yet I never voiced my sentiment

until now — confessions coerced

Our roses died yet we still tried to nurse

all but one, who developed an impediment

The drive was the very worst

My silence, thereafter, uncoerced