The Road Shortens

The road shortens with the passage of time.

The anticipation that lengthens the drive on the way

to the destination is shortened

on the return.

The looking forward to

is much longer than the looking back

In the back of the Country Squire

looking at the road, at the cars behind

my brother’s breath on the glass.

"HELP WE'RE BEING KIDNAPPED"

And I laugh as the drivers following

smirk, if worriedly, at the two

crew-cut near-twins giggling.

As the smirking drivers each passed on the left

We were but two or three miles of one hundred and sixty.

The trip dragged on,

"Are we there yet?"

Nerves were fraying, for there were cousins long unseen, 
games to be played, sisters yet to torment.

"When are we stopping to eat?"
"He's cheating at Slug Bug, my arm hurts!"  

"He's sitting to close!"

Blessed arrival cannot come too soon.

In the back of the Country Squire

Two toe-headed near-twins sleep

most of the way.

Three hours that felt like three days now pass

in three minutes.

I am as close to eighty as I am to thirty-two.

It feels like it’s been a much longer

journey getting here than it will be

getting there
I have much to do
I best not sleep through the journey.