april 8 . suspect vehicle

my camry twists

over the mountain,

sliding too quick on those

hairpin turns.

while the rain whips the trees

and bombards my windshield,
i can't help but wonder
if my accelerator might stick,
my car spin out of control--
thereby avoiding 
the metaphorical wreck
that i know is coming next.
but this one is safe,
this one has avoided
the dreaded recall list.
this one will carry me home.
home?
and i will cross this mountain again,
u-haul filled with 
bookshelves and dresser drawers
that are made for holding
but can't hold me.
careening away from the streets
my car has learned to
read like braille,
that my heart 
has come to drink
like sweet tea
on a summer day.