Thursday, May 9, 2013

Reflections of a field trip to Lincoln City

is the language of children
I understand it
but can't speak it
if what is said is true
every card they create is spoken for

Celebrations burst out raucously
with passing restaurants
exuberant endorsements from the elusive
child demographic

we pass street names
eyes open wide as they recognize their own
"I live down that street!"
"I know where you live!"
"I bet you don't know where I live?!"

As we drive, the ocean takes over
and like the constant roll of the waves
it calms our passengers
mouths open with nothing being said
quiet with the horizon spread out before us
chairs start reclining
heads roll to the side
as eyelids delicately close
like a butterfly landing

voices still make themselves heard
discussing a tv show or music group
but the metal rattling
engine roaring
hum of the road
sings the passengers
the soothing lullaby
of sleep.

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