goes where? There are no lights in the dark winter night.
So we sit in the dirt next to the off-ramp
And I nurse you through your tears under a star-speckled sky.
Less than 30 miles outside of Vegas.
But you couldn't wait.
Your anguished cries were unlike anything we've heard
since you were newborn. Nothing would comfort you.
Your ears must not have popped when we passed through the canyon.
The Cheshire smile of the silver half-moon casts its gentle glow upon your face.
And in the quietude of your slumber, I realize
There
in the blackness off of turn-to-nowhere
You are in my arms, and I am in your now-lidded eyes.
And I may never share a moment with you like that again.
4 comments:
Beautiful. I hope you enjoyed your trip, sans car ride.
What a beautiful way to remember an experience that could have been miserable. Traveling with infants can be so challenging, but this brings peace and comfort to those memories. You are a very gifted writer!
You have the poet soul of your grandmother
The trip wasn't so bad. She did very well most of the way. That's what made those 15 minutes (out of a 48 hours total) seems so acute. I'm glad it happened though, so I could have that moment.
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