Poetry

• TRICIA MANGONE CALDICOTT –

In Person

Some people love the sound of a gravel driveway 

And the feel of the tires rolling over the stones

It slows you down, gives you a lazy kind of feeling

As you head toward the house

On a hot summer morning

If it was paved, things would go too fast and 

You might not have time to second guess yourself

It’s been a long ride 

The trees that flank the front door drop water that quietly hisses on the hood of the car and rolls down the doors to the crushed rock

Is it dew? Did it rain here last night?

No way to know 

You were two states over until this morning

As you walk up to the house you realize

A small pebble from the driveway has forced its way into your sandal

Leaning against the car, you stoop to pull it out

And run your finger along its curves and edges

The white flecks in the gray pick up sunlight

Someone hollers your name from the kitchen window

You fling the stone back into the drive

And go in to tell them