Driving to Denver
She is silent as we drive across these empty grazing lands. Perturbed?
Most likely, lost in thought, as I am. There's no need for me to focus
On a road which has no curves. Another trip from Omaha to Denver
To be with her dad, who's 93 and not all there. The starkness
Of the land, the winter sky, the cheap accommodations, his room
In the nursing home, fatigue me. All of life seems gray. I wonder if
That's on her mind. If so, she doesn't say.
Poetry by Lawrence Beck

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Written on 2025-01-20 at 20:33




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