Let’s Go Places

tacoma

On a cold day, in a gray house, in a well-lit room, in a good book,
I found you perched on couch cushions.
Desperate to add dog ears that mark places to revisit when you decide you want to change the world.

I looked at you. You looked at me.
You looked at our cat. I looked at our cat.
We looked at each other.
We gave off some strong signals that fell on the “let’s get out of here” frequency,
exited to our respective closets, met back at the front door, made out quickly, and bolted for the driveway.

You yelled “shotgun!” and made it to the passenger handle before me.
I let you win because I like looking at you looking at things.
I steal Polaroid glances while you observe our planet through a tinted window. 

Someday I am going to become an artist, just so I can paint your tears
as you watched that one sunset, on an open road, in a white truck, surrounded by mountains, melting into a Jethro Tull song.
“No man’s an island and his castle isn’t home,
The nest is for nothing when the bird has flown.”

Sometimes all you need is a look and an open road
to be a poet.
Late nights, headlights, and hairpin curves.
They drive us.
We let go of the steering wheel a long time ago.

I leaned over and whispered softly in her ear.
“Have you found what you are looking for?”
She replied with a quick shoulder raise.

Distracted by the sun’s fingers poking through redwood trees.

-Reese Weatherspoon

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