Thursday, May 15, 2008

The Poet Laureate of 95 South

Well. What a drive. All I can say was that it was so memorial, so eventful, so inspirational that I wrote a poem about it - stopped just over 60 miles from our destination, I was moved to create verse, at a BP station:

Ode to Exit 58

Twenty-three hours into a twelve hour journey.
One sleepless night in a bad hotel.

Toddler screaming
Duckie squeaking
Movie blaring
Toy blinking.

If you lived here, you'd be home by now.
Yes, let's move to you:
Lovely town of Exit 58.

Yup. I think that says it all.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I miss you, girl :( You had me rolling, and when I read it to Barb, she was laughing, too.