As I drive these winding mountain roads
With an empty passenger seat
My mind goes to all my travels before
In every memory there’s always a girl
Riding shotgun next to me laughing
Singing at the top of our lungs to a song
Windows down and hand on her thigh
Knowing there’s a destination ahead
But pretending we won’t ever get there
Because of the fun we’re having
Passing in the moments in between
I think of each of them my passengers
Sharing in once in a lifetime adventures
To places we’d never pass again together
My windows still down singing a song
That makes me think of you and wishing
For some old company on these new drives
Copyright © 2021 TJS Sherman All rights reserved.
Love the known destination that you pretend isn’t absolute; the ride being so much of the fun, anyhow. Made me wonder what song you two might be singing.
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I like your poem, and I like your photo. Now, I’m wondering where your winding mountain roads are.
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The winding path of I-90 through the Cascades early yesterday morning while chasing the lunar eclipse.
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