The iPod We Only See on Road Trips

it’s still filled with all the 2011 hits and classics
that used to put us to sleep. It’s music
that lets the sun rest softer on our skin,
looking out the window as the forever of the world
fades. Like youth
never thinking about the distance,
length, or time lost. When it was new,
bumping down this highway
was different from that one just before. And
I always waited. If the playlist ended
someone else would hit shuffle again,
and again. The words were still refreshing.

Poetry and photography by Hazel J. Hall.