It’s a long drive through blurred countryside,
              cars shuffling impatiently like high stakes card games.
        The wheels spin blindingly fast,
                reliving hardships,
              joy
          each burst of laughter,

every embrace, every tear.

Whether the days were full
                or wanting;
          the nights serene,
                  or fitful.

                                     We hold hands,
                            the connection between us like a conduit,
                                  relaying all that energy
                                      that couldn’t touch us when we were grounded.

                        We keep the radio off,
                                  listening now to those old thoughts;
                              those historic machines-
                            loud enough to drown out the static sounds of the road.

It’s a long drive,
                      but this kind of silence can be comforting.