Tribe

Papa Daddy drove his big green station wagon

with wood paneling on the sides

made me sit

in the backseat

in the middle

on the hump

every time we took a road trip

to the shore

or the mountains

or HoJo’s

__

we was heading South, man, South

__

I was

narrow and squirrelly

impatient

looking out windows

inquisitive

flipping kettle corn

into my watering mouth

or nibbling licorice and counting cars

__

I was five when we first hit the road

Pappy Daddy, Paw Paw, and me

__

Took me two years to understand

we weren’t

homeward bound

just taking the long way

__

Took another ten years to realize

there’d be no going back

***

Copyright © 01/09/2005 by Christy Munson. All rights reserved.

***

Spoken word by Christy Munson

_______________________

Author's Note: This poem was written as a free style piece and later recorded as spoken word. The music was created using an online music app and samples. The embedded link connects you with my one and only spoken word album: exposure. My husband and I might make the time to properly edit it one day, but in the meantime, we hope you enjoy it.