The Map

We’d take our trips for three weeks at a snap;
My father planned each trip out on a map

We’d drive and all play games there in the car;
My brother in the front seat with the map

My mother in back seat there with me
To point out things of interest from the map

My sister sleeping from the Dramamine;
Oblivious to all things on the map

Economy motels, and simple meals;
The parks, the mountains, rivers on the map

Us singing in the car, all with our parts
Our voices in the car each trip would cap

The careful preparations of my dad
And mom to show us things beyond
The map

Published by

Beleaguered Servant

Owen Servant is an online poet working in a style that's been described as "compulsive". In real life, he is an actuary, because being a poet wasn't unpopular enough.

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