We hit the prairie
with the windows rolled down.
As the sun started to set,
you took off your shoes-
your barefeet on the dash.
You lit a cigarette
and the glow as you inhaled
revealed marks of a very great adventure.
We let our hair grow long together
because it looked cool
when the wind
ruffled it a bit.
"I wish we could drive forever", you said.
I agreed:
We could have chased the sun for the rest of our numbered days,
because we knew it would be the only thing
we could hold on to.
Memories of Summer, 2008.