The Detour

Each night that I grieve you 

Concludes in a plead 

For a time machine 

 

I’d skip the nightmares 

Before the tearful doctors and long needles

Forget the warm casseroles and crying people 

 

I’d go to the day I watched your calloused hands 

Wrap around the leather steering wheel 

Of the red truck that always seemed to squeal 

 

I would give it all up 

To go back to those warm days

When the long car rides met summer’s haze 

 

You’d drive us into the fields to watch the sunset 

Paying no attention to road signs or the destination 

You’d collect the flowers from each location 

 

Grab a handful to bring home to mother 

Watch the sun dip into the horizon’s edge

Hear the truck scrape against the property’s hedge 

 

Dad I would do anything to relive that day

To be parked in those fields of violet 

To be your trusted co-pilot 

 

One. 

Last. 

Time. 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family

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