My Choice of a Choice Spot

My Choice of a Choice Spot

Three small kids
jumping up and down
in the roadside dust
you picking up your suitcase
off the hot asphalt
the kids grabbing at your arms
the woman searching her purse
for the car keys
You get front guest-of-honor seat
the kids cram themselves in
any old way in the back
the middle kid
breathing in your ear
over the seat
something about
whatever it is
lost when the woman
pulling hard on the wheel
gets the car to angle up
bounces it on to the two-lane highway
and by now it’s coming back to you:

how much you do like being here
how much you do like being here.


3 thoughts on “My Choice of a Choice Spot

    • Thank you. I was inspired by memories of several trips I made as a teenager to visit family friends, taking the Greyhound bus from Nashville area into rural Indiana. Bus stops out there were usually something like a gas station or sometimes just an intersection in the fields. You got off the bus, the driver pulled out your suitcase from underneath the bus, and there you were. This scene is how I remember things – both my own arrivals and from watching other people get off the bus to the greetings of whoever came out to get them. Nice memories for me.

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