Blog Post #9


I miss old road trips

Family vacations to where I could smell nothing but pine

School was out and nothing was needed of me

Except to stay within sight and be careful in parking lots

I used to imagine a man

Running alongside the car as we sped by

He could leap over semi trucks

He would dance on the fence posts

And climb along the mountains 

I miss when it all didn't feel so heavy

Like there was always something on the back of my mind

Like I'd forgotten something

Left behind between my car door and my seatbelt 

When being idle meant I could day dream

Broad shouldered giants building rivers before me

That I could fish with my dad

before I had to set my own catch

and could just reel in

When hammock naps in the shade of the trees

Meant I could let my mind drain 

and the water wasn't so thick 

with regret back then

When the food tasted better

Because mom made it

but only when it was my favorite of course

When my sister would quiet me

And point amongst the trees

to spot the deer she had been watching

and whisper in quiet awe