The Red Car

Eros was the part of me that could sleep,
my soul awake all night

in work dreams, search dreams, dreams
of finding my way home

on public transportation
all those years without a car. I was Psyche,

my sisters urging me on. A passenger,
listening to The Cars sing “Drive.”

One morning I woke from a dream of my mother
backing the red car out of the garage:

she’s in the back seat,
behind me, there’s no steering wheel,

my feet don’t reach the brakes,
and I can’t figure out how she’s doing it.