Thursday afternoon stop  

On Thursday afternoon,
I drive from my home in Columbia
to Lexington.

At the traffic light
on Versailles Road
& Man-O-War Blvd,  

the air compressor unit locks,
killing the engine,

I turn off the AC & the engine restarts.

With me is an international student
from 11 Miles Bull Bay, Jamaica.
I have been her host family for a year.  

We plan to pick up my son
who will help me drive to Jamaica,
New York.  

A poem can be about car problems
away from home at a busy intersection,
as well as it can be about sex,  

love, or a dead deer in the middle
of a country road at night.
Poets write what they live.

I drive to my son’s apartment 
& his roommate calls me an Uber
that takes me to Bluegrass Airport.  

This poem is not about a short flight
to New York, Queens;
it is not about blue lights, flashing;  

it is not about red lights, flashing,
or sirens, sounding at the scene
of a wreck, but about a change of plans.  

At Bluegrass Airport, I rent a car.
I return to my son’s apartment.
He begins our drive to New York.