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Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #1016194
A stop on the highway during our summer vacation.
Arizona, hot afternoon,
tearing apart the Interstate,
Ttime to take a break
from miles of shimmering desert highway.
Six hours at high speed
makes the eyes tired.
Not a McDonald's to be seen
in the last 200 miles.

Emily and I
stop at Hopi Kiva Cafe
outside Phoenix.
The only white faces
smart enough to dare the local menu
were met with friendliness
and eagerness to accept
tourist dollars.

Climb out of the car stretching,
back and neck popping,
squinting and sun baking,
we wander into
air conditioned gloom.
Mmmm, spicy pepper
cooking smells.

Kid menu and whatever
the pretty native girl
with the round smiling face
recommended sounded good
as we quickly dined.

Dad can we go into the gift shop?
Activity books and more car fun stuff,
Dream Catcher, a bit of turquoise,
coloring books and crayons
dug into my wallet.
I attempted a smile,
as I give money to
the decidedly non-native
grouchy, slouchy teen
with the "Here to Help"
pin on her apron.

Emily climbs on top of
an outdoor dining table
for a picture in front of
poorly done reproductions of
Hopi demigods,
before we strap back in
and turn up air conditioning.

Arizona, late afternoon.
we were tearing back up an Interstate on-ramp.
We broke east into 400 miles
of shimmering desert highway.
Six more hours at high speed
kept smiles on our faces.
Emily and I recounted dinner
and shopping,
before admitting to being tired.
© Copyright 2005 Lou-Here By His Grace (tattsnteeth2 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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