Remember those long car rides as a kid?

I chose to settle down today in the grass down by the road

and let my hair whip in the wind, strands dancing to and fro.

I chose to nest my feet beneath my legs jutted to the side

and watched in silent rapture at the people driving by.


I counted every car with their windows all rolled down;

I listened for the music notes, each drum and bass and sound.

I looked for all the smudges left by eager dogs and kids

from pressing paws to windows to see everything they could.


I remember all the car rides, all the no name trips we took,

all the donut shops and playgrounds, all the pages of read books.

The nights we rolled back toward a home that always called our names

as we slept against the seatbelts, tuckered from a long beach day.

Arguments and pinching, the shushes and the squeals,

laughing and fighting in a fifteen passenger on wheels.


So now I like to sit by the road and watch the vehicles for hours

and let my mind rewind in time to the road trips that were ours.


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