we have kansas sun before dusk
lighting our westward trail,
a case of water, racing winds
calling through open windows
this is what you prayed for
easy laughter,
food in a purple plastic box,
booster packs of gaming cards,
a funny smile on dad’s face,
appreciating of his sons’ antics,
dirty bare feet, stretches of silence,
orange juice in emptied ozarka bottles,
long, slow conversation,
crumby blankets,
bare pillows, boy questions in still-little voices,
every now and then
i-love-you-glances passed
between mom and dad,
and countless miles
of road to cover
together.