A Childhood Journey

A Childhood Journey

In the backseat, I was seated with my brothers,

We journeyed along with a blanket as a cover.

Wrapped in warmth from head to our toes,

With parents sitting in silence not wanting to go.

The neighbor lady, Mrs. Nellon, I heard them say,

Paid my dad a handsome sum to travel on this day.

Down curvy, twisty roads and under canopy’s colors,

It wasn’t something my dad liked to do if he had his druthers.

I wasn’t sure of the destination, our destiny at that time,

We were told to sit and be quiet my mother had chimed.

In squelched obedience with only whispered words,

We moved along to some unknown place much like a bird.

All around our car were trees, a kaleidoscope for us to see,

It was an adventure, a discovery, something new to me.

Passing under the tall trees and their branches stretching overhead,

I took in all the colors of canopies suspended widespread.

I and my brothers to this place unaware,

Fell subject to a passenger and tried not to stare.

She was old and had wrinkles that told a story,

Of her life, her experiences, and her journey’s glory.

The woman now twisted and bend from life’s battles,

Smiled as she pressed her finger to her lips for us not to tattle.

She had no children of her own to speak of,

But being our neighbor, she’d taken us to love.

Once beyond the curvy roads with bends under the trees,

We fell asleep in the back seat with our heads on our knees.

It was a long journey or so we all thought,

That my dad accepted and the old lady withbought.

Whispers from the front seat shook us awake,

We had arrived at our destination, there was no mistake.

Peering through the windows, with mountains all gone,

Stood a gleaming city before us with skyscrapers so strong.

I’ve never returned to that place since that time,

To visit the city with its buildings sublime.

But today I sit remembering the journey we took,

And pen it for those who wish to travel or take a look.

By Dan R. Fowler

For: Astrid