My mother and I rumbling in the car,
and I longing for your welcome-
one that ends this dreary winter.
Naked trees flash in a blur,
as we pass over a river,
city lights ricocheting
the tops of the dark, rigid waves,
Mother's words are floating.
I don't know a thing she's saying.
My head vacant. No, that's a lie.
It overflows with laughter,
fingers and a whisper running
through my hair.
A smile, images drawn in
and out. Your silhouette close,
smile illuminating the dark. Hands tender,
lips upon skin,
Both of us under that purple sky.
With stars shimmering.
I want to reach out, give your shirt a tug,
pull you along to the highest building
under the same purple sky,
and we'll cry out the events of our past
that bind us together.
Grade 8
Crossroads Middle School