5-speed & high heels

Man, I'd had enough
spreadsheets and emails
and drama for one day.
For many days.
I slung my satchel
over my shoulder, tight
over my bosom, really,
hit the lights
and clicked out.

As I click click
clicked up the brick
walk, searching the conifers
searching for the hawk's nest
(I could hear them
screeching like clarinets
through my office window)
the anxious in my belly
began to dissipate.

Couldn't see them,
but I could still hear them,
bucketed in my car seat,
windows down,
guitars screeching,
in reverse, then first,
second, third, I like
how the clutch feels
driving in tall heels.

This poem came from something I tweeted yesterday: "I love the way the clutch feels when driving in tall heels." Southern Mike reacted to my tweet (I think by saying "dayum!") so I challenged him to write a poem, too. I think I like his better, please read:
Date Night