04-11-2020, 09:45 AM
Twenty-something years old, but in this moment, in this setting, you are a child.
The car’s warm and stagnant air holds you,
tells you there is nothing you can do but sit still and ride along.
Outside the windows, sunlight drips from between mountains
as time is slowly falling closer and closer to the end of day.
The dog is asleep between folded seats, candy is sticky between little sister’s teeth-
pets and colorful sugar brought along to maintain comforting car ride habits.
The distant radio humming,
the highway steadily rumbling,
these sounds maintain the stupor.
Suddenly, a thought pushes you out of the soothing, familiar charade;
one day you won’t be making the drive as a child,
one day you won’t be making it at all.
The car’s warm and stagnant air holds you,
tells you there is nothing you can do but sit still and ride along.
Outside the windows, sunlight drips from between mountains
as time is slowly falling closer and closer to the end of day.
The dog is asleep between folded seats, candy is sticky between little sister’s teeth-
pets and colorful sugar brought along to maintain comforting car ride habits.
The distant radio humming,
the highway steadily rumbling,
these sounds maintain the stupor.
Suddenly, a thought pushes you out of the soothing, familiar charade;
one day you won’t be making the drive as a child,
one day you won’t be making it at all.