And Would for the Rest of Their Lives

Mom bundled them in the back
Of the car in sleeping bags,
Trying not to wake them up,

But they were too excited.
The darkness, the snow, the cold—
The strangeness and their parents’

Own energy were thrilling,
Even though they couldn’t grasp
Yet what a vacation was,

Much less what Florida was,
Only those hours in the dark
In their sleeping bags as lights

Streamed staccato past the glass,
With the sense rules were broken,
Everything had been mixed up,

The car was a rolling bed,
Their bed was a snuggly bag,
The drive just went on and on.