sit criss crossed
the back of a station wagon you've known
for as long as you can remember
a backpack perched on your lap
because it's comforting
a shield of sorts
the radio whistles with you
and hums
the sun is at such an angle
it's only sometimes blinding
out the window are the same trees
and they remind you of the same people and things
nothing really ever changes
this used to frustrate me
but things can't change until you appreciate them
i think
taking in the sights i've already taken in
taking in the sunlight really
i've never done this before
no one has
we're taking life as it comes
and, now
my life is at such an angle
it's only blinding sometimes.
i need to open my eyes for the rest.