For today's prompt, I want you to write a travel-related poem. It can be human travel, the migration of swallows, the trafficking of drugs, etc. Some sort of movement from point A to point B.
Every year it is the same
Planning starts in the dead of winter
Lists are made
The reservation was made last year as we left
You can feel the excitement as we get closer to the day
We migrate to Minnesota in the summer
There is a lake there where our friends gather
Family is there also.
Mother lives for the one week, then two and finally three
weeks amid the pines and birches
on the shores of Leech Lake
You can see the far away look in her eyes
as she contemplates sleeping on the porch
raising up to look out at the lake
listening to the loons.
I collect a lot of books to take. Paperbacks and
there is a visit to the library to take some more out.
The car is prepared. Sometimes we take a friend along with us
but it is always my mom and my sister and me.
(Once we waited until sunrise so my sister’s girlfriend could see the
scenery – she spent the entire trip reading comic books)
We have the route memorized but I still get a Triptic
I need to get some benefit from my AAA membership.
We drive past farms (with white cows that my mother and sister think are sheep)
and a myriad of lakes (but they are not “our lake” )
Through the twin cities – that is the time Mother always starts to mess with the paper
and read it. Thus making me even more nervous as I navigate the always heavy traffic
The closer we get the more excited. Mother starts to sing “We’re on vacation, in the summer time!” She is happiest on the way up to the lake
and at the lake
Then, all to soon it is over and we have to retrace our trip.
This time the scenery is viewed through tears.
Except for me. I am usually ready to get back home.
Gradually we think about the air conditioning we have done without
the comfort of our own beds
and the friends we have left behind.
We “post-mortem” the vacation all the way home
and for weeks afterwards. And yes – the reservations were made
before we left
so we would be able to do it all over again.
It seems like it is always the same
but it isn’t. It is warm and comfortable and cozy
just like an old slipper
We like it that way.