lenten journal: periphery

rush hour was a contradiction
this afternoon—I could see the
stalled cars for what looked like
miles in front of me, so I dove for
the exit and the open spaces.
I saved no time, but I did keep
moving, winding down Durham roads
I rarely travel; my daily world is
small. I would do well to explore the
edges, the in-betweens, to take
the streets less traveled—at least
for me—I was discovering nothing.
Those houses have been there all along,
the cafés, wholesale meats, salons—
I am at the edge of their world,
ten minutes from my front door.

Peace,
Milton