The Sun crossed the planes, northern most eastward,
searing into our windshield.
She rested her head on my shoulder, as we made our way
east on the highway, away from the pacific.
She reached for the radio, to hear the morning talk show
and I playfully slapped her hand away,
advocating for the calming silence
that was, our purring Chevy engine,
the isolating winds, and
her deep relaxed breathes.
I slipped a note into her coat pocket
before she rose up, on the third morning, it read:
‘Good morning my Queen,
when I am with you time is timeless,
the things around us are opaque blurs
and I am locked in to you.
I have never shared this experience before,
I am excited to explore your love.
While we embark on this trip,
I hope to discover a part of you, for which
I’d never let go.
Last night I pretended to be your kidnapper,
it helped me to kill time crossing the country,
while you slept stretched across the back seat.
Pulled over by the cops, without breaking character,
I knew that a girl like you was a steal,
so I covered you with a blanket and sweaters
to keep you from being revealed.
P.S. We are almost to Jacksonville.’
Your mommy was so gentle, so caring and
beautiful. I think about her every day,
I see a bit of her in you, my princess,
especially when I look at old portraits around our home.
That trip across the country promised that
I would never ever forget her.
When cancer took her away last year,
I lost a part of myself.
I lost my wife, my matriarch.
But sometimes we have to accept
The things that are out
of our control and
pray to God that the memories live on.
Mommy is in heaven and
she’ll be keeping watch over us,
Until we see her again,
I’ll hold you tight, every sunset,
And tell you a story just like this one.
Dom S. Flagg 2016