Destinations

Willcox, Arizona

ca. 1960

When I drive by an auto salvage yard, 

I sometimes wonder how many destinations 

were achieved and where everyone went;

how many were set aside and forgotten;

how many irritated parents pulled over to quash 

a rebellion or let a desperate child get out to seek relief;

how many awkward, groping moments and 

first time whatevers occurred in the front and back seats;

and how many drove up and down the road, 

out of loneliness or anger, turning around 

two, three, or more times before returning home.

Some stories are about the fear of driving 

to places too far away, or of driving 

just far enough to get away.

Most stories, though, are about families 

who were going somewhere nearby together.

We piled into the car or the back of a pickup

in a bluster of excitement, eager to be 

out of the house with no other goals

than to stop at the Dairy Queen,

then drive to Railroad Park, 

face the wind, squinty-eyed,

sitting on the picnic tables chattering, 

ice cream dripping off our chins 

onto our shirts and pants 

and dresses.

Moments of joy.

A perfect place.

So good a time.

From: Memories And The Things Left Behind

Unpub. MS p. 11