A Back Seat With a View
Time to load up the family Dodge and hit the open road.
Our backs to California, the wheels rolling east towards the deep south.
Arriving by plane wasn’t an option, the car was our only transportation mode.
My older brother pulls my hair and a yelp escapes my thin mouth.
Our backs to California, the wheels rolling east towards the deep south.
Country greats like Strait, McEntire, and Alabama blaring through the radio.
My older brother pulls my hair and a yelp escapes my thin mouth.
Mom and Dad won’t get a break and my car sickness is touch-and-go.
Country greats like Strait, McEntire, and Alabama blaring through the radio.
Travel bingo and the license plate game forever etched in my brain.
Mom and Dad won’t get a break and my car sickness is touch-and-go.
Three days to get there and three days back without rain.
Travel bingo and the license plate game forever etched in my brain.
Big rigs honking as my eager arm pumped up and down from the back seat.
Three days to get there and three days back without rain.
Eating piles of junk food on the road was always a real treat.
Travel bingo and the license plate game forever etched in my brain.
Arriving by plane wasn’t an option, the car was our only transportation mode.
Three days to get there and three days back without rain.
Time to load up the family Dodge and hit the open road.
Contest: A RHYMING PANTOUM OF FIVE STANZAS (6th place)
Sponsored by: L Milton Hankins
Date of poem: May 12, 2022
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