the Constitution
(a ship in Boston Harbor)
has won my man’s heart
a tavern lunch date
for our last family road trip
with all of our girls
all grown up, my girls
(they’ve been everywhere with us)
and soon they will fly
a windy beach day
followed by farmers’ market
for tonight’s dinner
they all want to know
(yet no one really wants to)
how much it hurts. Hurts.
it’s in a painting
the storm-washed sea, blue background
the broken cable
it’s in this beach day
(today’s my uncle’s birthday)
and we can’t go back
here we are, singing
because it’s all we can do
after the long drive
three states, three hours,
a short capital lunch break
before breaking waves
carrying kayaks
down for a pup-and-paddle
oh the lake, the lake
a day on the lake
clear, glistening perfection
formed by hills, glaciers
with a loving pup
and our nearly-grown daughters
the day is a gift
cycle to the wine
a trail along Keuka Lake
and these sweet smiles
a morning cycle
finished with a lakeside day
breezy adventure
words cannot describe
how much these hills feel like home
(what was once my home)
an empty highway,
a rural life, cloudy skies
and. oh yes. this lake.
you can’t picture it.
so let me draw you a map.
my Finger Lakes love.
yes, it’s just a store.
you can only imagine
what a store could be.
Colorado born
yet half my childhood is
upstate New York bred
can you taste the plums?
fresh from the roadside farm stand
just pop them in. wait.
you’ll be here with me.
choosing the best ears of corn.
loving, loving life.
our youngest driver
plowing through rain, construction
toward the great Erie
our road trips have changed
as the girls become adults
yet, they’re still the same
local food, great views,
the ever-changing weather,
seeing every state
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