I am waiting for blue skies and beaches
for sand, sun, and sweat
for the blossoming crimson of love and the wonderful emptiness of endless summer days
maybe I am waiting for the happiness of home
for long lunches on sunny afternoons with mothers, brothers, and fathers
watching teenagers be teenage while we learn how to be a family again
I know I am waiting for a straight stretch asphalt drawn in half by two thin yellow lines
and the gentle press of speed, steel, and night
running around me like thick black breath at one hundred twenty miles-per-hour
as fast as my car will go
I am waiting for the promise of darkness and the freedom of forever
the freedom of night spread out before me like a blank page, waiting impatiently to be filled
I am even waiting for the dreary threat of dawn at the end of it all
after the thrill of speed and cinema, after the coffee and the conversation
(weary waitress waiting for morning)
and the terrible beauty of birdsong as I slip into bed
just as my father and the sun rise as one, and wait impatiently for their days to begin

AcB 04.20.01