The two and a half hour car trip seemed like
An epic journey when I was seven.
The mountain roads weaving around each curve
Made my stomach dizzy. The only lights
Were the headlights of the few passing cars
Brave enough to be on these roads at night.
I tried not to cry. I tried not to think.
I just held onto my special pillow
And prayed as hard as I could, staring out
Into the black and wishing I could fly.
Caren E. Salas
(for Grandma Bustos)