Uber Ride, RDU Edition

Uber Ride, RDU Edition by Carol Everett Adams She’d no front teeth, but said more than any other Uber driver ever, asked me after every story, Does that make sense? Her eyes Ubering off the road as she checked mine in the rearview. We Ubered in the forests of her pitcherisk acres, Ubered on her many riding mowers, Ubered past the years her Pawpaw raised her up to hunt, so she’ll never go hungry, praise Trump, and good God, but our hearts hurt for the woman in the news who Ubered from the Blue Ridge Trail. But you know, her own cancer-passed brother once rented a convertible just so her niece and nephew could have something like a coaster ride. They perched on top of the back seat, arms up, flew and laughed and laughed, and Lord, even I could remember the sun that day,  like I Ubered down someone else’s street, does that make sense? Poetry Home Art by Keegan Baatz