In the sun, with ear tilted just so,
freckles dapple nose like flecks
of soupy mud
eyes too clear to describe
I say we'll be home soon.
Those eyes will look through
the window at the melting sun
with its rays reaching up
to hold the clouds a little longer
as the highway stretches like a ribbon of tape,
an illusion of endlessness like time,
like when I made you sit
still in that corner for some
misdeed and you asked over and over
when it would end
only five minutes
but your legs filled with the morning's
playing yet to be done
couldn't help but wiggle under the constraint.
Now wheels tick seconds into the darkness
and patience is a vine encircling those legs
Then it is this...
I can't be light only a faint glow
or a shadow that you will see
maybe you won't
Cristina Trapani-Scott lives in Ypsilanti, Michigan, with her husband and two children. She is a feature writer and columnist for a weekly newspaper called the Tecumseh Herald, and is currently a creative writing MFA candidate at Spalding University. Her work has been published in Hip Mama Magazine and Poetry Motel Wallpaper Series. She is also the 2003 winner of the Chelsea Poetry Competition in Chelsea, Michigan.
