road trip by Cynthia Bernard

happily ever after

is not a smooth glide

down a freshly-paved highway

in a pristine silver Mercedes

under clear skies

the road can be bumpy

and some of those potholes

are decades old

and pretty darn deep

sometimes we cruise along

enjoying the view

checking out enticing detours

or going pedal-to-the-metal

to get to that little diner

with the best burger ever

other times we get lost

in a maze

of unpaved streets

and some of them

are dead-enders

with no warning signs

there are a few maps

in the glove compartment

but someone did an origami

fold-and-tuck on them

and they’re impossible

to open

the google lady’s

no help either

there are too many places

with no cell service

along the way

and then there’s my

looney-tunes mother

and your

iceberg of a father

who show up

uninvited

and try to grab the wheel

but your brown eyes still twinkle

and I still sing an off-key happy song

when my hand

finds yours

and weaves its way in

even when we fall

into a ditch and

the wheels spin and spin

before we manage to get out

and all along the roadway

we remember

that we’re playing

for the same team

which means

we always win

no matter what might happen

especially on cold nights

when the heater fails

and we have to cuddle up

to keep warm