Me and my parents in a rented car
on old Route 66. Red rimrock replacing
tropic savannahs behind our eyes,
while the young fellow at the counter
grins at my dad: maybe the only two
black men in all of Arizona in 1981.
He says he's from Chicago. Us? It takes
fifteen minutes just to list the places
we've lived and why. And I'm seventeen
with miles yet ahead of me and no idea
that I'll ever get tired of the road.
Collection available! Knocking from Inside
Monday, May 25, 2009
Dawn's Cafe – Seligman
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5 comments:
Like this snapshot.."maybe the only two black men in all of Arizona in 1981" and your retake of Route 66 at the last sentence.
irenet calls it a "snapshot" and I like that. a poetic slice. great authentic voice.
A trip down memory lane can serve up nice fodder for a poem, can't it? Your poem is no exception. Wonderful voice. Loved the line:
maybe the only two
black men in all of Arizona in 1981.
Have a nice day.
This was much more than a snapshot - as well as being caught in the present travel-stop, I could feel your past and even the hint of things to come. Thankyou for sharing your words through this blog.
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