Some drive in silence with their mind 

free as the thought patterns they find

 

Others drive with the crevasses of their soul bare 

to the “lucky” listener sitting there

 

Some drive with laser-focus, turning on a dime

constantly checking their arrival time

 

Others drive with beats blasting, casting glances 

hoping partners will join in their dances

 

Some drive with pets’ tongues flapping in the wind

One arm out, sun on their skin

 

Others drive in awe of hilltops, grassy planes

and flares reflecting off waterways

 

Then there’s the road-trip game player

Tell me that’s not you

 

© Candice Reineke 2020