Jacqueline Moss
JUNCTURE
Freewheeling down the Pennsylvania turnpike
the last day of school
You steered the car
Past the left turn exit
that led to my home
Kept your foot on the petal
heading north
towards yours
In that split second the decision was made
We would stay together
The road
Became our aisle
We married in the car
There was no license
Or veil
Just the clinking of two souls
The silent understanding
That the two
Had become one
Once I got to New York
I called my dad on the phone
To let him know
I would not be coming home
There was something in his voice that told me
He was relieved
that I took the proposal
That he thought I was smart
to avoid his steep decline
Right at that juncture
Where Rte 31 veered off from 70
I had my baptism in fire
Walked barefoot on red hot coals
The daughter became a bride
The future handed her roses
JACQUELINE MOSS’s poems have appeared regularly in the Long Island Quarterly over the past thirty years. Her poems reach for the luminosity that lies outside the lines of 3D reality. She can usually sense when a poem has wings.