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Nadine C. Keels

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Member Since: May, 2011

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A Lovers' Road Trip
by Nadine C. Keels

Thursday, May 12, 2011
Rated "G" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Nadine C. Keels
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For a number of seasons now
she’s been cruising down this tangible, intangible highway
at an unknown rate of miles per hour:
sometimes, apparently, without the car.


For a number of seasons now

she’s been cruising down this tangible, intangible highway

at an unknown rate of miles per hour:

sometimes, apparently, without the car.

 

“I feel like I’m running on empty,” she’ll say.

 

“Then stop running, baby.  Get back in the car,” He’ll tell her.

 

She’ll get back in.

 

He knows the exits and rest stops better than she does

as well as their ultimate destination.

 

“Let’s exit, next right,” He’ll say.

She still doesn’t know exactly how He does it

but the next right exit will always have whatever she needs

whether she knew or said she needed it or not:

a contract,

a relationship,

a cemetery,

a bite to eat,

a comfy couch.

 

This particular time, however,

she’s a bit puzzled to find a catered buffet

blocking the roadway at the next exit.

“Come on, let’s eat,” He says, and she follows Him out of the car.

They serve each other dinner

and she eats as much as she wants from the buffet,

the food rather bitter and sweet

filling her with nostalgia and hope.

 

It’s not until they start on dessert,

when the painfully pleasant flavor of their shared slice of cake brings hot tears to her eyes,

that He quietly asks her,

“How is it?”

 

She smiles up at Him.  “It tastes like a wedding,” she whispers.

 

“Yes.  Well, we needed another,” He whispers back.  She can hear His tears too, even if she can’t see them.  “I’ve missed you, baby,” He says.  “I’ve missed you terribly.”

 

“Funny that You should miss me,” she replies.  “We’ve been traveling together for seasons, now.”

 

But, she knows what He means.  She’s missed Him, too.

 

“Where to next?” she asks when they’re back in the car.

 

“Where do you think?” is all He’ll say, for now.  Their road trip continues.

 

Sometimes, while cruising down the highway

she can hardly tell if He’s the passenger

the driver

or more like an inevitable force somewhere outside of the car

pushing or pulling the car further along

at an unknown rate of miles per hour.

 

She thinks to herself

it could be, perhaps,

that He loves her enough to be all of those things

simultaneously.

Prismatic Prospects

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Reviewed by Nadine Keels 5/14/2011
Thanks, Chantilly Lace :-)
Reviewed by Chantilly Lace (Reader) 5/13/2011
Wonderful writing sweet lady.....sighhh......stay safe and well..Hugsss
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