Breaking free from the city
I found myself curving with the
bend of the country road
where you once pulled over,
parked your truck, and sighed.
 
Here, let me show you.
you said, getting out.
Aglow in the headlights
you cocked your head—
raised an eyebrow.
 
By the time my feet hit
the dust of the shoulder,
you were already in the bed
of the truck, hand extended:
a beacon I was to follow.
 
With our backs against the cab,
you pointed just a little to the left:
having finished your freshman
astrology class, you confidently
introduced me to the bright Cassiopeia.
 
In the shadow of your sureness,
I claimed to see what you saw,
leaned back into your chest
and stared up into darkness.
but I saw no beautiful wife and mother.
 
Instead, the soft shimmer of Milky Way
pulled my eyes toward Cygnus, 
the swan, who welcomed me.
Whispered: Transform yourself.
 
Shivering, despite the hot and humid night,
I shifted. Take me home?

©

Heather M. F. Lyke is a writer living in southern Minnesota. By day, she teaches students Creative Writing and American Literature. On evenings and weekends, she creates. She build things out of nothing: sometimes with paint, occasionally with fabric, but most often with words. Visit her at: www.heatherlyke.weebly.com.

Twitter: @teacherlyke

Turning was first published in print by In Parentheses, an online literary magazine and community dedicated to New Modernism. https://inparentheses.art/2020/07/15/now-available-in-parentheses-literary-magazine-volume-6-issue-1/