Tuesdays I drive into town with Jesus.
We don’t talk much. He gives me
His’ what more needs to be said’ look
and fiddles with the radio to get pysched.
We pour love at the Walmart
walking down the aisles like they were water.
Sometimes folks raise their hand
halfway to their face as if they recognize Him
in each other.
There’s little else to go on,
gentle, humble in heart.
Mercy, how He teases me
to let Him drive.