Poem Hunter
Poems
.30) The Sense Of Touch
(1948 / OVER 400 POEMS SERVED! !)

.30) The Sense Of Touch

I hold the steering wheel
of the car in my hands,
I hold the world,

gripping tightly
its vinyl over hard plastic,
able to turn on a point
with my power steering,

peering over the dashboard
out through the windshield
at a world I seem to control,

driving at a whim on excellent freeways
to any point on or beyond the horizon.

O complacent illusion of control,
until I remembered last night's dream—
My father appeared,
my father who died five years ago.

'I'm here! ' he said. 'Touch me! '
I reached out and touched.
You are here! ' I gasped,

comforted, and woke up,
and he was gone,
and remains gone

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Comments (1)

didn't like this as much as the crew of 1976 poem although the final 2 lines were a great close. one thing i'll say about both poems is the line breaks seem to me to be a bit out of sync sometimes for example the opening two lines of this poem.