I always loved rolling the windows down
and breathing in the sultry air, feeling
the booming music vibrate and shake
the windows and mirrors
of that cheap ’98 Honda almost gone
to rack and ruin. Giggling and basking
in a whiskey-induced haze.
The way the torrid July wind swept
the long chestnut hair from my bronzed
shoulders and washed out
any headaches waiting to happen.
The sun sinking down causing every
boulder and hill to become silhouettes
like those in a children’s picture book,
a reminder of what it was like to be so free
Stopping at a rundown gas station
on the corner of Main St. and flirting
our way into being twenty-one
with the cashier. Ignoring missed calls
and “Where are you?” voices
from concerned moms and dads.
All my friends and I parked the beaten-down
car on a dirt & gravel patch, out of reach
from responsibility waiting to ensue,
and admired the pine trees looming over us
like a mother watching over her sleeping child.
Dancing and stumbling around to Aerosmith’s
“Sweet Emotion” playing through the only
radio station in our town. The peeking curve
of the sun casting rays on the last quarter of the sky
like a glowing nightlight on a bedroom wall.