Sometimes, when we’re on a long drive,
and we’ve talked enough and listened
to enough music and stopped twice,
once to eat, once to see the view,
we fall into this rhythm of silence.
It swings back and forth between us
like a rope over a lake.
Maybe it’s what we don’t say
that saves us.
Poem copyright ©1994 by Dorianne Laux, “Enough Music,” (What We Carry
, BOA Editions, 1994). Poem reprinted by permission of Dorianne Laux and the publisher.
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