Driving Home
from Knoebels Amusement Park
All day my five year old son has lived
through amusement park rides of make-believe
danger and now, in the real world of Route 80,
he sleeps in the back strapped in his booster seat
as traffic whizzes past. He is clutching
his giant souvenir pencil so large and thick
he could write his whole life story with it
and it's his life I think about as I maneuver
our car up and down the Pennsylvania mountain
highway where almost no one is obeying the law.
This is his world beyond rides he rode today
screaming with laughter, this is reality after
crashing bumper cars and the "Suicide
Water Slide." And I am seized with true fear
when that driver with one hand on a cell phone
swerves into my lane but my son sleeps on
holding his pencil like a scepter, maybe dreaming
of his hilarious terror aboard the "Cyclone"
and the "Anaconda" roller coaster where fright
is what you pay for and safety is assured.
When a woman speeds past applying lip stick
I grip the wheel tighter knowing I drive
with Liam's life in my hands here on Route 80
where no one cares for him as much as I do
and I am stiff with his absolute faith
that lets him doze even now as a tractor trailer,
30 miles over the speed limit, catches up
to our bumper and high beams us out of its way.
As I change lanes and it barges past like a bully,
I shudder to think the unthinkable for my son
who giggled through the "Chamber of Death"
fun house, who now sleeps trusting me
to steer clear of every horror around him.
School Building in Summer
Steaming in July -
children missing door-to-door -
song without singers.
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