two apples

i fear for my life

as she drives fast along the back

roads.

the top down as a cold breeze

makes me shiver.

i see the ditches

and fences,

the cliffs inches away from

the front tire.

i see the gravel fly.

i cling to the seat,

push my foot on the invisible

brake pedal that i wish was there.

i begin to pray.

i pull out my rosary beads and start

with Hail Mary full of grace.

i close my

eyes as we approach stopped

traffic hoping we can

stop in time too.

smoke rises from the wheels

as the tires squeal and burn

against the black top.

it's a white knuckle ride home.

but somehow, through the rain,

and wind, the winding roads

we arrive back home.

soaked in sweat i stagger

inside with my two apples

from a roadside stand 

and thank her kindly

for the ride.