The Traffic Cones

You borrowed a couple
And put them in the back
Of the car for practice.

Each day you’d set them up
In the bare cul-de-sac
And let your kid practice

Backing through, figure-eights,
Using mirrors to steer.
It was only practice,

Too young for a permit.
It was something to do,
Good habits to practice,

A skill to imagine,
A sliver of freedom
Contained within practice,

To feel how much a car
Could do with some steering,
With well-practiced control.