All the Traveling I Did

Every Sunday, just the same
We’d call Mom to set a time
To meet at the McDonald’s
Halfway between the houses
She’d run late for every which way reason
Dad would say I’m going over to that
Mexican place across the street
He’d point
I’m sad when you guys leave
It cheers me up
Forty five minutes each way
To cart you around
It’s not your fault your father lives in the country

from a prompt on

29 thoughts on “All the Traveling I Did

  1. sustainabilitea

    You highlighted not only travel over physical distance but over emotional distance as well. The late bit reminds me of a friend in high school who was chronically about half an hour late for everything and since she had a car and we didn’t, we had no choice. Finally we started making the meet time half an hour early. 🙂 As I recall, it worked.


  2. MarinaSofia

    Short but to the point, a lot of pain there. Just yesterday I heard about a 9 year old boy who is put on the plane every Friday afternoon by his Swiss mother and travels as an unaccompanied minor to stay for the weekend with his Dad in the UK, then back on Sunday night. I can only imagine how tiring that must be, both physically and emotionally.

  3. biggerthanalasagna

    Oh what a sweet, sad poem. I like how the idea of traveling is used to further distance everyone. Really cool use of the prompt.


  4. Glenn Buttkus

    Some enigmatic points here, free of punctuation, dangling alone or intertwined; perhaps your husband does not attend these Sunday get-togethers, perhaps a journey can be just across a room, reaching past a scowl; a single step or perpetual motion, we travel within an imperfect world, & only the sights & events change.


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