How we used to travel.
We would pack up the equipment and a suitcase
and just drive,
map on my knee,
radio playing a good old song,
your left elbow resting on the edge
of the open window.
You always had a driver’s sunburn
on your left arm.
You wore shades and a hat and
a confident cowboy smile
and time slowed down and
spun around us and if I had to choose
a moment to live in forever it would be
driving deserted prairie roads,
sun beating down,
Hank on the radio,
you at the wheel,
me at the map,
the world spread out before us.
#85
Just read this poem to Randy who says “Hey, that is pretty good. I can picture it.” Me too, and we have lived it but never bothered to write it down but yes, those drives were/are still the best of times. Cyn & Randy
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Cool. I love it when someone connects with one of my poems! Makes it all worthwhile!
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This distills the time alone, exploring, experiencing! What wonderful feelings!
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Yes, that unfiltered experience. Thank you, that was just what I was hoping to convey.
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Good work!
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A truly beautiful snapshot of a memory… I really enjoyed sharing this image with you. I love the idea of writing a poem every morning!
I wish you luck, and look forward to reading more 🙂
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Thank you for stopping by and for your kind words. It was, it is, a special memory and it came to me so suddenly this morning it brought tears to my eyes. I hope you’ll come back and visit again soon.
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