Day Twenty-One, Road Trip 2015

all ages love boats,
 skyline tower views, no waves,
 island tree climbing
 
 parks make cities nice
 waterfront, shady, crowd free
 not these skyscrapers
 
 multicolored ride
 subway, tunnel underground
 (to hide from winter)
 
 what about fresh air?
 facing the snowy cold day?
 not in Toronto
 
 for now, sun shines through
 we see commerce’s belly
 windows heaven down
 
 it’s hard to picture
 winter’s isolating freeze
 (even fruit hides here)
 
 that’s what it’s like now
 just before our trek back home
 (last time i’ll see her)
 
 in tunnels, hiding
 just like friendships wax and wane
 waiting to come back
 
 

Day Twenty, Road Trip 2015

New York left behind
 tears in my throat once again
 goodbye hilly farms
 
 off to Canada
 tourists, crazy drivers
 (no speeding tickets?)
 
 traffic jam entrance
 into tall tower city
 and strange busker fest
 
 no one greets us, ‘eh’
 just my friend, daughter’s namesake
 waiting with a meal
 
 i miss the silence
 the small waves of Finger Lakes
 coaxing me to sleep
 
 sigh… the road takes us
 through ups and downs, silence, crowds…
 as i’ve asked it to
 
 

Day Nineteen, Road Trip 2015

chilled out lake beach day
 Denver’s blue skies followed us
 a day to ourselves 
 
 camp cookouts, sailboats 
 gentle hum of mini waves
 not a soul in sight 
 
 only one thing gone:
 his arms, his love around us
 (at home he awaits)
 
 peace comes in sparkles
 small sun rays dipped in forests
 shining through the dark 
 

 

Day Eighteen, Road Trip 2015

sunrise silent view
 collecting glacial water
 from my hometown lake
 
 impossible sights
 832 steps
 made by miracles
 
 spring water fill up
 waterfall wonderment walk
 distant valley view
 
 lunch at the vineyard
 blue as sky midday lake taste
 (feast as delicious)
 
 swim in clear waters
 girls fearless of bottom plants
 wet fun in cool lake
 
 grade school best friends meet
 each of us toting three kids
 (could have been our life)
 
 but i’ll take this view:
 journeys home–here, everywhere
 all have a sunrise
 
 

Day Seventeen, Road Trip 2015

met in a drugstore
 seventy years of marriage
 through three kids, three wars
 
 still earth’s travelers
 color-coded pins mark map
 slept, lived, camped, drove, flew
 
 she swims every day
 he mows the yard and pulls weeds
 they tease each other
 
 best of all? they grin
 take tragedy, joy in turns
 till death do them part
 
 (this is why i drive
 take my kids along the road
 live long by travel)
 
 

Day Sixteen, Road Trip 2015

small town tire delay
 gives us reason for lobster
 (just a short Maine walk)
 
 two missed turns later
 we find winding New Hampshire
 ready for ice cream
 
 fixed reservation
 at a camp we’ve never seen
 top out my Monday
 
 late night text shocker:
 best sleeping bag left in Maine
 (adventure goes on)
 
 we find our way back
 on lobster walks, ice cream runs
 till we feel at home
 
 that’s how the road plays:
 missed turns, rushed escape attempts
 journeys everywhere
 
 

Day Thirteen, Road Trip 2015

a moment of risk
 on this never ending trip
 is what makes this pic
 
 kids brimming with grins
 now i sit in silent car
 grateful for this time
 
 i watch my uncle
 hands in tremors–sixty-five
 granddaughter in tow
 
 age recycles us
 into all we wanted here–
 just a yes, a yes
 
 

Day Twelve, Road Trip 2015

clay covered bodies
 splash across a Vermont beach
 wreaking love-havoc
 
 one idea spun
 across Colorado wheels
 makes their dreams come true
 
 the road’s life. managed.
 choices and back seat spaces
 (why we bought this car)
 
 “we’re not so different.
 i can tell you live for them”
 (so worth the long drive)
 
 a morning Maine call
 beach memories yet to make
 vibrant happiness
 
 this is my road trip:
 let the journey be better
 than its destiny
 
 

Day Ten, Road Trip 2015

drive starts with best store
 candy store within the store
 (we all need fill ups)
 
 green mountain state calls
 with back roads and endless views
 we make our way home:
 
 where we stand in rain
 and talk like it’s been three days
 (never mind three years)
 
 while the kids recite
 the spinning songs of preschool
 that spun us this time
 
 reunion’s beauty
 claws at my throat, my heart.
 rain can’t renew it
 
 this trip from my dreams:
 three years, three thousand miles–
 six hearts in one
 
 

Day Seven, Road Trip 2015

walk across downtown
 with my urban planning mom
 walking rating: zilch
 
 veggies are heavy
 when carrying Kentucky
 weight on both shoulders
 
 redemptive moment
 on green lake with blue kayaks
 (words he’ll never read)
 
 a campfire end
 to a summer daydream trip
 (only innocence)
 
 full circle i’ve turned
 since five years back, her birth year
 (my first niece. cousins)
 
 but he won’t see that.
 only weakness bearing down
 on our bright union
 
 love like this? just once.
 with dark swings on late porches
 he can’t even touch
 
 but for her bright eyes
 the firelit sunset eve
 forgiveness follows.