For day 20 of the PAD challenge. A "right" or "wrong" poem.
no right or wrong turns with you, map in
hand, marshalling the troops,
loading the luggage
heading for the flat middle of
the country, carpeted with
corn and soybeans, we
stop for lunch at the Flying J,
fingering pink packets of saccharin and
staunching bleeds of ketchup with a
quick swipe of a napkin, heading
off the mess before it spreads
too far, then back into the car,
even right in your wrong-ness,
the happy mistake, the accidental
short-cut, bringing us back to that quiet cul-de-sac
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