Not Driving, but Steering

I don't drive and
can't see out
the corners of my eyes
don't want to bring a harm to
any being, any child

it may be cultural
maybe physical
a self-effacing symbol of
my impotence, or quite simply
the laziness in me

and like those who won't navigate
the higher ways of politics, the
mazes of morality
fuel standards, petrol tax

there are some vehicles
I recoil from, stand apart
and greasy steering wheels
which I just won't grasp

and some for which I reach
with two hands held in hope
to steer my heart, to keep
my energy and sight
for the next rest stop.

poem by Frank Bana
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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